


Culture Shock

by CassadyFlies



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol, Drug Use, M/M, Nezushi - Freeform, No. 6 - Freeform, Prosthetic Limbs, Reunion, Reunion Fic, disabled!nezumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 48,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassadyFlies/pseuds/CassadyFlies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's twelve years post-canon, and Shion is heading the anthropological team charged with exploring the (once thought dead) terrain of the greater continent of No. 6.<br/>On his journey, he encounters a small town of people who are still alive in the wreckage- as well as an old friend who's joined their ranks.<br/>Can their friendship* sustain twelve years apart, reintegration, injury, and worse?</p><p>*the word 'friendship' here is defined loosely.</p><p>Thanks to @comehomenezumi for being my gracious beta!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In a van, down by the river

One felt the chafing of concrete on bare feet, and the other felt the pang of too-stiff soles. One felt the curl of sun-burned hair on his scalp, and the other felt the sweat of concentration on his neck. For both, the wind blew- and that was all they had in common. One grinned at overhanging mountains, and the other smiled at a sun-lit park. One howled at full-moon eyes (gray, bloodshot,) rolling dirty down at the jetty-block beach, and the other purred for the pet-project completed (finally, God,) after twelve long years in office-block city. One never expected to see the other again, the other waited expectantly for their reunion.

Upon arriving at his home, Shion (the other) pulled off the stiff leather shoes of the office, and unwrapped a pair of new hiking cleats, and donned them with pride. A backpack that nearly burst at the seams lay on the floor of his house, and outside, a motor revved and somebody whooped. Shion grinned at the sound, heart pounding in his fingertips. He grabbed the backpack, and darted out through the still open front door. Six men, and two women sat packed into a van, all neatly decompressed to maximize space. The headlights pointed east, toward the mountainous forests.

Long drive. Their unpaved course looped and twisted, sending one wheel into the air at a time. Driver rotations were scheduled meticulously, and passengers slept less for exhaustion, but in the hopes of subsiding carsickness. If conversation happened on the road, it was instantly erased from everyone’s memory. Useless chatter. Maps and sketches and projections were passed around the cramped interior of the van, fluttering and crumbling like chaotic butterflies. Nobody had traced the territory before. Or rather, all data of the territory was destroyed, and no citizen of No. 6 had set foot (or wheel) in the area since the Mao Massacre. Still, the nine in the van were hailed as pioneers to new soil by the people of the Holy City.

Since the Babylon Convention, no exploration of the greater continent of No. 6 had been attempted, and all was assumed uninhabitable. However, some studies had lead a few scientists to question that assumption. Hence, a white van that stored eight of the said scientists, and the head of environmental planning and city councilor (Shion), was embarking on the first manned exploration of the area.

Over the past couple years, drones had photographed the area, but little of interest was found. Possibly (definitely) most fascinating were signs of human activity near the eastern ocean. Old rubble, suggesting dwelling. Whether it was from before the war (expected), or the remnants of some group of people that escaped the draw of the Holy City (unlikely), it was worth investigation.

Secretly, Shion had hope. He kept it secret because to share this hope would only make him seem to be an idealistic fool. He was. Still, scientists proceed with logic, and with logic they would proceed. However, in dreams and in journal, Shion stoked the hope that there were modern people living in the debris. Not only that, he had hope that a particular person had found this place. He was certainly adventurous enough to have wandered that far, but whether their paths would cross was unknown.

The car grumbled forward, groaning in protest of the unpredictable terrain. Eventually, the sun set. As the light faded, the driver pushed the car faster, suddenly realizing the passage of time. They made it to a rocky cliff which overhung a riverbed that looked oddly chalky and parched in the middle of such large trees. They slept in the car, slumped on each other and embracing thin pillows. Drooling elbows and shoulders rocked them all to sleep, slowly and anxiously. There was no rest, only waiting for morning.

They drove for two weeks, stopping systematically to map the area. Until finally, the forest wore thin, and a great rocky ocean unfurled in front of them. Ancient jetty blocks jutted awkwardly out of the waves like crowning teeth. Shion wandered down to the shoreline, toeing off his shoes and testing the water. Cold. Dirty. Nice. A million water beetles scurried away from his step, clinging to walls or diving for the safety of the sea. The eight scientists immediately set to work collecting their various data, while Shion wandered off in the direction of an old sea wall. He took occasional photos, recording trees and interesting geography. He shot the ocean and the jetty, noticing the wear of the stone in the polluted waters.

Nearly an hour passed, and Shion had wandered far enough away to be alone with the white noise of the ocean. It was nice. He forgot to think. He kicked a stone lazily through the grass and hummed to himself. Somehow, the rocking of the ocean reminded him of a song he’d heard twelve years ago… _“The wind carries souls away, and someone steals your heart…”_

Suddenly, a voice cut through the daydream haze, making him jump violently. “You’re no singer.”

“Um, hello?” He called, heart pounding. He looked around himself wildly, swinging his head like a dog.

“Not a singer at all.” A little girl stepped out from behind a cluster of trees. “Why do you know that song?” She frowned, twirling the end of a long strand of hair. Slowly, she walked up to Shion, sizing him up.

“I… An old friend used to sing it,” Shion explained, taking a step back. His hands were still shaking from the fright.

The little girl shook her head, “No… That’s not right. Have you been watching us?”

As she drew closer, Shion saw more age. She was probably around sixteen, with a short and thin stature that made her look very much like a child. “Watching you?” Shion’s heart leapt into his throat, “There are people here!?”

The girl took a step back, “What do you think? I just been sitting in the forest by myself my whole life?”

Shion took a step forward, “Can I meet them?”

The girl looked confused, “Why? Have _you_ been sitting in the forest by yourself your whole life?”

Shion shook his head, “No, no, I’m with an anthropological team. We’re surveying the area. Since the fall of No. 6, we’ve been trying to re-establish- hey!”

The girl took off running.

“Where are you going?” Shion ran after her, dodging through trees with much less agility than she. “Hey, come back!”

The girl gained distance on him, twisting through the briar and thick foliage as if she knew every leaf.

“Hey!” Shion called, slowing down as he realized he couldn’t catch up with her. “What was that about?” He stopped, panting. Slowly, thoughts clicked into place, _there’s people here, for real! They know that song, I guess? Oh my god, that must mean…_ His stomach lurched in excitement, and he pulled out a sat phone, “Hey, guys!”

Static, then an unclear voice cut through, “Shion?”

“There’s people! I met a person!” He grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to contain his excitement.

“…Really?”

“Yeah!”

“…Where are you?”

He looked around himself, identical forest on all sides. “Oh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I have no idea where I am.”

There was a long pause on the line. “Are you serious? You’re lost?”

Shion blushed, “No! I can find my way back, I just can’t explain where I am.”

Another long pause, and someone on the other end sighed, “Dammit, Shion… Alright, just tag the coordinates of where they are, and we’ll find it later.”

“Okay…” Shion looked around, “Oh.”

“What?” Frustrated.

“Um, the person I met sort of ran away. I don’t know where she is anymore.” He shifted his weight awkwardly.

The longest pause yet followed. “Well, find them.” The line disconnected.

Shion nodded at no one, feeling embarrassed. “Ugh…” Slowly, he set off in the direction the girl had been running, hoping he could find them by nightfall. Nervously, he clutched his backpack tighter.


	2. I was a teenage cyborg

The branches were thick, clawing at his clothing and beckoning him to rest. It was getting dark, and forest creatures were beginning to move. Shion clutched a two inch survival knife in a sweaty fist, unsure of whether or not he should just stop and find a place to camp for the night. He had a small tent and basic supplies loaded in his backpack, and turning around was looking like less and less of an option as the moon rose higher. Eventually, he sighed, and swung the backpack off his shoulder. Fishing around inside, he pulled out the self-assembling tent and unfurled it. A small lantern with a charger crank was clipped to the side, so he turned it on. It was brighter than expected, and it started to attract moths. The trees danced in the artificial light, shadows bouncing and confusing the senses. Shion smiled, allowing himself to relax and enjoy the gentle ocean breeze that still carried the faint smell of salt even through the thick trees. Time slipped away, stars grew brighter, and the carpet of leaves that covered the ground began to rustle as mice and beetles awoke. How fascinating it was to experience the dawning of a new day for half the forest as the creatures of the night reclaimed the land, stirring up the darker soul of the woods. In the distance, a wolf howled.

Some time later, Shion became aware of a strange smell. Like burning herbs, it drafted thick and heavy across the ground. He sat up at the mouth of the tent, peering out with the lantern in hand. Not a minute later, the sound of breaking fibers punctured the calm. Footfall. Fumbling quickly for defense, Shion withdrew his knife and a can of bear spray from his backpack. He stuck the lantern outside the tent in order to warn any animals of his presence before they stumbled upon him. He’d heard this was the thing to do for bears, and there was a large population of bears in these woods. He quickly shut the entrance flap.

The footfall drew closer, crunching over the ground with intent. Shion found himself holding his breath, heart fluttering wildly. He gripped his weapons tighter. Soon, the steps were just outside the tent, circling him deliberately. Then, they stopped. Shion was sweating. He took the safety off the mace, trying to stay calm as his heart pounded in his mouth. With one more shaky breath, he steeled himself to fight if needed.

“Hello?”

Shion jumped violently, upsetting his backpack which toppled with a bang.

The voice (a human male) laughed, “Did I scare you?”

Shion put down the mace, and closed his knife. “Who’s there?”

The voice laughed again, melodically. “It’s okay. Just come out. I think I know you.”

Shion frowned. “I doubt it. I’m not from here.”

“Neither am I.” The voice paused, then took a few steps toward the mouth of the tent. “You ran into a girl from my tribe and really freaked her out when you said you were from No. 6. You know, that city doesn’t have the best reputation around here. To put it lightly.”

Shion shifted where he sat, unsure whether or not to be on guard. “I know. But, you know, it’s better now. The walls are down. Everything is being rebuilt. Over a decade ago, there was-“

“I know,” the voice interrupted him, “I know the whole story. Just come out, Shion. This is weird.”

Shion froze, his mind running into a million dead-ends. “Wait…”

“I told you. I know you.”

Shion’s heart hammered as he opened the tent to face a pair of smiling eyes he knew only too well. “No way.”

Nezumi grinned down at him. “Hey.” He looked different, with sharper, more mature features and hair that fell in a heavy braid down his back. His skin was darker, with a smattering of freckles on each shoulder protruding from his tank top. Long, canvas pants fell down to his shoes, that looked sturdy but worn. He held a small flashlight and a thin, hand-rolled cigarette hung from his lips- the source of the smoky smell.

Slowly and uncertainly, Shion crawled free from the tent and stood. “H-hey.” His mouth hung slack, and his eyes were wide. He probably looked pretty stupid, but he found he didn’t much care. “H-how… How did you know I was here?”

Nezumi shrugged. “The girl you traumatized said white hair, scar, and No. 6. What was I supposed to guess? Oh, and you’re really easy to track, by the way. You left all sorts of trails. I actually found this… biscuit? Cookie? Anyway, I ate it, and it was alright. You shouldn’t drop food, though. It’s wasteful.” He held up a plastic cookie wrapper, shaking his head in mock disappointment. There was a long moment of silence, in which Nezumi’s grin grew progressively wider, and Shion’s jaw got progressively slacker. Nezumi spoke first. “So, you gonna say something? I really expected a crap ton of questions, and either a hug or a punch in the gut. Dealer’s choice.”

The haze clouding Shion’s mind cleared instantly, and with a rush of euphoria, he happily complied, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around Nezumi’s neck. “Where have you been? Who are you staying with? What happened? How did you find them?” His arms shook and embarrassing tears sprung to his eyes as he clung tight, heart fluttering frantically against his ribcage. It was like every thought and feeling he’d had towards Nezumi in the past twelve years was expanding in his mind, pressing against his skull, but joyously. He laughed shakily, wrapping his arms tighter, bringing them close enough to feel each other’s heartbeats against their own. An unintentional sob burst free when Nezumi hugged him back, running his fingers through Shion’s hair. Shion turned his face to Nezumi’s neck, breathing until he was calm and full. He smelled like outdoors and whatever he was smoking, but beneath all that was a familiar twinge of something from long ago.

Shion sighed, finally breaking away. “I’m happy to see you.”

Nezumi nodded. “You too.” Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Hey, check it out!” He tugged up his left pant leg to the knee, exposing heavily scarred flesh that stopped too suddenly a bit down the calf. A long metal attachment hugged the scarred leg tightly and extended all the way down into his shoe.

Shion stared, uncomprehending. “What is that?”

Nezumi laughed. “A prosthetic. I lost my leg.”

“Are you serious?” Shion gasped.

Nezumi nodded. “Yeah. A while back. Don’t worry. You should see the other guy.”

Shion looked up, startled. “What happened to him?”

Nezumi frowned. “That was a joke. It’s just a phrase. I fought a bear.”

“You _what?!”_

“Well, I say fought… I screamed and passed out. I got a couple good hits in, though. I think. I’ll tell you about it later. Pack your things.” Nezumi gestured at the tent.

Biting back his protests and questions, Shion did as he was told, folding up the tent and stuffing it back in his backpack. His mind was spinning, and part of him was uncertain about whether or not this was a dream.

He followed Nezumi through the forest. They had only been walking for about fifteen minutes when the trees started to clear, and the ocean became louder. Light broke through the foliage, and a small town appeared, sitting just beyond a twenty foot ocean wall.

When they reached the border of the town, Nezumi stopped him. “Okay, try to be cool. They really don’t want you here. I had to swear up and down you were okay.”

Shion just nodded, staring blankly at the little town that had somehow remained hidden from the eyes of No.6.

A tall, spindly building overbore them. A metal staircase twisted up the side like a vine, breaking at doors to five different floors. Nezumi began up the stairs, Shion close behind. When they reached the fifth floor, Nezumi knocked before walking right inside. Eyes wide, Shion followed him in.

The room beyond the door was dark and smelled heavily of smoke. A single exposed lightbulb flickered from the ceiling, casting the room with an orange glow. Two girls lounged topless on a squashed couch, squinting at the door in confusion.

“That him?” One pointed rudely at Shion, who looked away blushing at her exposed breasts.

“Mhm.” Nezumi closed the door behind them, before collapsing with a happy groan into an armchair. “Shion. Meet my roommates, Chikara (the one pointing, you can call her Kara), and Stroll.”

Shion nodded. “Hi… Um, is that your real name? Stroll?”

The girl in question stared at him. “Ask _Nezumi.”_

Shion nodded, understanding. “It’s nice to make both of your acquaintance. I’m Shion, I’m from No. 6, and I’m the head of-“

“Does he always do this?” Kara interrupted, looking at Nezumi incredulously.

“Yup.”

“Dammit, I’m here all stoned and tits out and you bring in this little aristocrat with manners and shit… Not polite, Mimi, I’m surprised at you.” Stroll crossed her arms.

Shion grinned, offensive comment forgotten, _“Mimi?”_

“Shut up.” Nezumi scowled. “And take a seat before one of us smacks you.”

Shion glanced around at the occupied furniture. “Where?”

Nezumi looked around too, gave up, and pushed himself back to standing. “Fair point. Let’s go to my room.” He kicked off his shoes, letting them roll across the floor. It was a little odd to see one flesh and one metal foot protruding from his pants. Shion tried not to stare as he carefully toed off his own shoes and set them by the door.

“Aw, they’re sleeping together? So sweet,” Stroll intoned, raising an eyebrow at Nezumi.

“I’m a grown-ass man. I’ll sleep with whoever I want,” Nezumi grumbled, shuffling over to a door in the back of the room. “Next to. In the proximity of whoever I want.” He disappeared into his room, shutting the door behind him. “Come on, Shion!”

Kara glanced at Shion knowingly. “He digs you.”

“These walls are really thin,” Stroll added. “Not that I mind.”

“Really fucking thin!” Nezumi called back. The girls laughed.

Shion blushed, before following Nezumi inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reunion at last. <3 
> 
> for this post: http://keijies.tumblr.com/post/133908558758/if-nezumi-doesnt-come-back-with-a-prosthetic-limb


	3. Exit, pursued by a bear

Nezumi’s bedroom consisted of a queen-sized mattress on the floor, a dresser, and several precarious stacks of books. The floor was wooden, as were the walls and ceiling. Empty, the whole thing would have appeared quite like the inside of a cardboard box. However, the walls were covered with paper scraps, each bearing writing in Nezumi’s own hand. Upon closer look, they seemed to be quotes from different authors he’d copied down. Sometimes, entire paragraphs. Notes and sketches were etched in the margins, and underlines and circles broke up the sentences into bits of analysis. Is this a thing he did when bored?

Nezumi stretched, pulling his tank top over his head and tossing it on the floor. On his back, several new scars ran atop the old. Shion stared at the twist of his muscles as he cracked his spine and pulled the band from his braid to undo it. Every movement was mesmerizing. Nezumi noticed him staring.

“Gruesome, right?” Nezumi smirked. “Not my best feature, I’ll admit.”

Shion frowned. “What?”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not checking out my sick new scars? I got some fun stories to tell…”

Shion shook his head. “I was just thinking how beautiful you look when you move.”

Nezumi stared. “Oh. Yeah. of course you were.” Visibly shaking that off, he unbraided his hair, letting it fall down to the small of his back in long wavy strands. “I’m going to take a shower. You can go next.” He grabbed a towel off the top of his dresser and walked back out the door. “Stay here,” he added as he closed the door behind him.

Shion obeyed, setting his backpack down in the corner and taking a seat on the bed. The reality of his situation suddenly hit him, and it was overwhelming. After twelve long years, he finally got to see Nezumi again. Here he sat in his room, in a town full of people that weren’t even on his radar. It all felt very familiar. Yet, he felt instantly safe and at home. Nezumi would reprimand him, certainly. He’d tell him to never let his guard down. Even here, in this peaceful looking town, there must be some lurking danger.

Sooner than expected, Nezumi came back from the shower. His footsteps sounded uneven, _pap clunk pap clunk,_ alternating metal and flesh. With a towel tied around his midriff, Nezumi’s prosthetic was entirely visible. Shion couldn’t help but stare.

“I’m bionic,” Nezumi said with a smirk, noticing Shion’s gaze. “Go shower.” He tossed a clean towel in Shion’s general direction.

“Okay.” Shion stood, grabbed the towel and his pajamas from his backpack, and headed out. He tried to shower as fast as he could, despite the allure of hot water. He had an anxious feeling in his chest that if he took his eyes off Nezumi for too long, he might just run away again.

Back in the room, Nezumi, who was also changed into night clothes, was busy sorting through Shion’s stuff.

“Hey!” Shion called in annoyance.

“That’s what happens when you leave your things unguarded.” Nezumi shrugged.

“I didn’t go through _your_ things,” Shion grumbled.

“You should have. What a perfect opportunity to rifle through my underwear drawer.” Nezumi didn’t look up from his search.

“I wouldn’t do that!” Shion blushed.

“You _could_ have, is my point.” Nezumi pulled the last item, a compass, from the backpack, then started putting everything back, satisfied. “I’m an opportunist.”

“You’re full of shit…” Shion mumbled.

“Always.” Nezumi smiled. “And kudos on the new vocabulary.”

“Thanks…” Shion sat down on the bed next to him, and simultaneously they collapsed onto their backs with a sigh.

After a moment, Nezumi shifted. “Don’t scream.”

“Why?” Shion asked, sitting up anxiously.

“I gotta take this leg off.”

Shion hesitated. “I might scream.”

“Well, don’t.” Nezumi sat up and raised the leg of his pajama pants. Carefully, he unscrewed a peg in the side of the ring that circled the remainder of his calf. It slid off easily, showing fully for the first time that there really was no leg there. Shion’s brain had a hard time comprehending the sight.

Shion stared at the deep, red scars that ribboned vertically along his leg. It looked like it had been extremely painful, and he couldn’t draw his eyes away. “What happened?”

Nezumi shifted so he was leaning against the wall. “I told you, I fought a bear.”

Shion scooted over to Nezumi, reaching out and touching the stump lightly. “No, what really happened? The whole story.”

Nezumi chuckled softly. “Geez, you really are morbid.”

Shion just stared at him.

“Fine,” Nezumi gave in. “It’s a good story, anyway. It was about six years after I left No. 6. I had traveled in every direction, learning every bit of terrain. At that point, I happened to be in this part of the woods. If you didn’t know, there happens to be a large population of bears living in this area. I didn’t know that.” Nezumi shook his head in hindsight. “Anyway, this giant mama comes out of nowhere, barreling at me at top speed. I start running, but obviously I’m not as fast as her, so she gets me. I tried to climb a tree, but she grabbed onto my leg and pulled me down. She sunk her claws into my back and her jaws into my leg then started shaking. I think for sure I’m a goner, but just at that moment, a shot rings out and bear brains explode all over me. The beast collapses, and I end up pinned underneath her, bleeding to death. I passed out just as the people who shot her came over to me. A man and a woman, both with long black hair and gray eyes. I thought I was dead, and they were my parents or something. I dunno, I was loopy from blood loss. They were hunters. I guess they’d been hunting her, and she got scared for her babies and charged. She just happened to get me instead of them. I woke up in a doctor’s office with two broken ribs, a bad concussion, and a quarter of my left leg missing. They didn’t think I was gonna make it.” Nezumi shrugged sadly. “But I always make it.”

Shion stared in awe.

“I’ve been here ever since.”

“You’ve been here for six years?” Shion subtracted. “Wow, so this really is home for you.”

Nezumi nodded. “These are my people. They’re a sister tribe of my family, who ran when they saw my forest burn. The Mountain People, they’re called. They’ve been hiding here ever since the Mao Massacre. No. 6 murdered a good chunk of their population as well. I thought they were all dead.”

A familiar crushing guilt dropped in Shion’s chest. He desperately bit back the nearly overwhelming urge to apologize for… for something. Though he’d played no role in the atrocities himself, he couldn’t help but feel painfully responsible for the actions of his community which had lead to his life of such privilege, while leading others into crushing oppression. Even if it were his fault as he felt it was, apologizing would be an offensively small and meaningless gesture. Nezumi had taught him that. Apologies are inherently selfish. All they do is relieve the offender of their guilt, while doing nothing to lessen the burden of those wronged.

“Nezumi, I…” Tears stung his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, feeling ashamed. He didn’t know what to say. The two stared at each other, realizing they were strangers. Twelve years is a lifetime, and to fall immediately back into the friendship they had before was a foolish dream.

Nezumi nodded. “This is home. When I was sixteen, I thought I could run forever. I thought I wanted to wander the world on my own, becoming this great explorer, living in the forest like when I was a baby. Then I got hurt, and I grew up. It happens.”

Shion wrung his hands, shoulders tightening. “I just realized I don’t know you.”

Nezumi looked away, “Yeah. That’s my fault. I should have kept my promise.”

Shion felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “You weren’t going to?”

“No,” Nezumi said simply.

“Oh.” Shion felt deflated. All those years of hope, waiting and looking forward to the day they’d… Of course, his life had come back together after the fall. He was happy, safe, and working hard for the future. Still… There had always been a place in his heart and in the back of his mind that he’d expected Nezumi to fill someday. A piece of his soul had gone with Nezumi over the mountains that day, and looking at him now… he wondered if he’d ever get it back. Maybe the beautiful boy who’d stolen his heart twelve years ago was gone forever. Maybe he was a fool to think he’d been important enough for Nezumi to return to.

Nezumi shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Shion, I… I never meant to-“

“I loved you.” Shion looked up, feeling his heart break into pieces when he met those gray eyes he’d been so enamored with for so long. Was there really a different person behind them now? He choked, “I loved you.”

Nezumi’s eyebrows drew together, looking hurt. “I… I know.”

It felt like a knife had pierced his chest. “Are you serious? Even now?” Shion sobbed. “You can’t admit you loved me too?” He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his wrist, frustrated by his own lack of restraint. “You did, didn’t you? Don’t you _dare_ tell me that was all in my head. After all we went through.”

Nezumi looked away.

“Look at me!” Shion grabbed his shoulders, anger growing in his stomach. “You’re gonna face what you did to me!” Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, which he ignored. “You made me love you, then you _left._ You made me wait for you, then you _never came back.”_ His voice caught in his throat. “And now you made me cry.”

Tears swam in Nezumi’s eyes as well, making the clear gray look nearly blue. “Of course I did,” He whispered. “Of course I loved you.”

Shion’s muscles melted, and he let go of Nezumi’s shoulders, hanging his head.

Nezumi hesitated, then took a breath. “Look, I don’t want to say that I left for your own safety, or because I loved you so much it hurt, or any bullshit like that. You wouldn’t believe me. I could list a million reasons why I think I left and why I think I stayed away, but honestly, it would all be lies. I don’t know why I did it, but you have every right to hate me for it.” Nezumi paused before continuing, “And I can’t tell you to leave, but if you do, I don’t want you to come back.”

Shion looked up, startled.

“It’s all or nothing. Something about you makes me… I can’t live my life with you on the sidelines. Either stay and see where this takes us, or go back home and know we’ll never see each other again.” Nezumi’s voice was firm. He was serious.

“Is… is that an ultimatum?” Shion’s voice cracked.

Nezumi shook his head. “No. It’s a proposal.”

Shion’s head spun. Stay forever or go forever… He wasn’t sure how to respond. Forever was a long time, and while he once thought he could be with Nezumi for that long and longer, now he wasn’t sure. This wasn’t the person he’d known. And even if he was, he wasn’t the person Shion loved anymore. Twelve years numbs the heart. By all accounts, they were barely acquaintances.

A thousand questions blossomed in Shion’s mind, but he kept them still.

“I’m not asking you to promise to die here. I just mean that when you leave, if you leave, you do so for good. Maybe tomorrow morning, or maybe in a year, whenever you choose. I know I sound hypocritical, and I’m sure I am, but… I can’t wait for you. I can’t live far away knowing you’re still a part of my life. If I’ve had anything to think about over these years, it’s been that. You take up my whole mind, or none of it. I can’t find any in between.”

Shion nodded, stunned. “I understand.”

“Good.” Nezumi shifted to face the wall, “We should go to sleep. It’s late.” He reached to pull the chain of the light bulb that illuminated the small room.

“Wait,” Shion interrupted him, “I…” He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, just… They had just met again. Wouldn’t it be strange to go to sleep without… something? Some sort of catharsis or closure was needed, surely.

“What?”

Shion shook his head. “Nothing. Good night.”

Nezumi frowned. and took Shion’s hand. “Good night.” He kissed him, lightly on the lips, and lingered only for a moment. Then, without another word, he pulled the chain and plunged the room into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Closure.
> 
> Also (and I would have included this had this story been from Nezumi's POV), he actually did ask out loud if the hunters were his parents:
> 
>  
> 
> "Mom..?" Nezumi squinted through the growing fog in his peripheral vision.
> 
> "No honey, it's alright, we're gonna get you to the doctor." The woman was stroking his hair and had her hand on his chin, preventing him from seeing the damage. "We're real close to town, isn't that great? Keep your eyes open, you're gonna be just fine."
> 
> She was lying. Nezumi could tell. "Mama, I think I died." He gasped, struggling to stay awake.
> 
> "Shh, shh... Stay with me. What's your name?" She patted his cheek, a bit of an edge coming to her voice.
> 
> "I don't know." His vision swirled with finality and everything went black. "I lost it. I'm sorry."


	4. If you don't eat yer meat

Shion woke up the next morning to find himself in a tangle of blanket and limbs. Somehow he and Nezumi managed to wrap around each other in their sleep to the point where they were both on top; Shion’s head on Nezumi’s chest, and Nezumi’s body sprawled across Shion’s. He must have woken up to footsteps, because a second later the door was thrown open, and a loud “Awww….” filled the room.

“Fuck off,” Nezumi groaned sleepily, and quickly detangled himself from Shion.

“Atsu’bi starts today,” an indistinguishable female voice taunted. “Lucky you.”

Shion felt Nezumi tense. “Oh no…”

“I know. Coincidences, right?” came a second female voice.

“We’re sick. Both of us. We’re staying in bed, alright? Please close the door.” Nezumi sat up, rubbing his eyes before glancing down at Shion nervously.

“What’s going on?” Shion sat up too, yawning and more than a little curious about Nezumi’s sudden and unexplained discomfort. “What’s Ats-… What’s that?”

“Day of Heat would be the translation, I guess. Sorta? But there’s ten days,” Kara tried to explain. “Used to be an actual religious celebration, but now… You’ll see.” She grinned deviously.

“It’s _fun.”_ Stroll added. “Especially now that there’s gonna be _drama!”_ She nodded knowingly at Shion, who had no idea what she meant. “The first night is always the best. You two are definitely going to come.”

“What she said,” Kara agreed with a laugh, before she closed the door on them. Shion could still hear the two of them giggling out in the living room.

Nezumi’s eyes were round, but the rest of his face desperately tried to be casual. “You don’t have to go. It’s really not a big deal. You probably wouldn’t even have any fun.”

“Now I’m curious.” Shion grinned at Nezumi’s apparent anxiety, stretching in the morning air. “We’re definitely going.”

Nezumi paled. “No way. There’s no chance in hell I’m letting you see-“

“Oh, damn!” Shion interjected. He leapt out of bed, crawling over to his backpack, “I forgot about the research team!” In all the excitement of seeing Nezumi and his roommates, he’d completely forgotten that he was there for a reason.

“Huh? Oh. No!” Nezumi exclaimed as he realized what Shion was doing, “Don’t bring them here!” He reached out and grabbed Shion’s arm quickly, stopping him from reaching for the sat phone.

Shion looked back at him, confused. “Why not? They’re gonna be so excited.” They really were. The whole team had been speculating and placing bets on what sorts of anthropological finds they would make upon encountering the ruins of the ‘ghost village,’ as they had called it. Now knowing that there were people, Shion could only imagine the looks on their faces.

Nezumi shook his head. “You can’t bring No. 6 here. You’re gonna get your friends killed. The kind of name that city has around here… They’ve spent their lives working to stay hidden from you guys. Even just the number six has become like a curse. It’s taboo.” He pushed his hair out of his face, frowning. “I know, you need to tell your friends you’re safe, but you can’t let them come here. For their own good, if nothing else.”

Shion set down his backpack, sighing. “The thing is, they already know there’s people. I told them the second I met that girl. If I don’t tell them something now, they’re gonna know I’m lying.” He fleetingly wondered if they would believe he was just hallucinating or something. _Probably a few of them would,_ he decided. _They’ve always said I was spacey. Maybe it wouldn’t be that big a stretch._ He shook the idea off. It was pointless to think about.

“Dammit.” Nezumi fell back on the bed, a stream of curses leaving his mouth. “Dammit, dammit, dammit… Okay, um… Shit.” He groaned. “Then there’s no choice. They have to come here. We have to meet them.” His eyebrows drew together in distress. “But not this week. They can’t be here for the next ten days.”

“Why not?” Shion frowned. That would be a hard feat to pull off, if not altogether impossible. They had only been allowed the bare minimum of food rations they would need to complete this mission. It wasn’t exactly universally supported by the city representatives. Many of them thought it was pointless to investigate a wasteland.

“They can’t be around for Atsu’bi since nobody will… really be capable of diplomacy.” Nezumi bit his lip nervously. “You need to keep them away for ten more days.”

“I can’t! They’re meant to leave tomorrow! We don’t have enough supplies!” Shion wished he could add some positive information, but all he could see was brick walls.

“God _damn_ it!” Nezumi yelled, making Shion jump with surprise. Nezumi pressed his hands into his forehead. “Fuck! You’re sure they can’t hold out with the amount you have? Even if you’re not there?”

Shion did the math out loud, thinking through it. “We have enough supplies for sixteen days, three meals, times nine people… My share, minus the stuff in my backpack… divided by ten is… then divided by three…” Shion shook his head. “It’s no good. Plus, the amount of water we have is barely sufficient for what we had planned.”

“But you won’t be going back with them! That’s got to work out, right?” Nezumi looked desperate. “What if we gave them supplies when they get here?” He glanced around his bedroom as if boxes of spare food and water might just be hiding behind his dresser, the one piece of furniture in the barren room.

“You’d have to tell them there was a here to get to, and I already factored that in,” Shion explained. “Also, what makes you think I’m not going back with them?” He was a little annoyed at the assumption that he would automatically choose to stay with Nezumi indefinitely with little to no forewarning.

“Not now, Shion.” Nezumi tangled his fingers in his hair, “I’m trying to think of what to do…” He groaned, defeated. “That’s it, then. They have to come here. During Atsu’bi… Oh my god…” His eyes widened. “I’m not going to be able to defend you when they riot. You’re going to need to, um.“ Nezumi paused, touching Shion’s hair by way of explanation. “Try to blend in… Shit.”

“Couldn’t we all?” Shion said with a burst of inspiration. “Is there any way we could just… I don’t know, not tell anyone they were coming, and have them try to blend in? I could convince them to do that easily.”

Nezumi initially looked like he wanted to argue, but when he apparently found he had nothing to say, he stopped to consider for a moment. “It’s an idea I, guess,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I don’t trust that they could be convincing to anyone.” He looked up thoughtfully. “Well, maybe if people were drunk enough. So the further into Atsu’bi they arrive, the better chance we’d have. How long could you stall them?”

Shion did the math in his head. “I guess… Five days. Maximum.”

“Good enough.” Nezumi flopped back against his pillow, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “You really think they could slip in and out without saying a word, and without overstaying their welcome?”

 _Not really, they’ll probably need us to forcibly remove them afterwards,_ Shion thought to himself. “Yeah, totally.”

Nezumi stared at him with mistrust for a good ten seconds before he gave in. “I guess this is the best way to handle things. It’s a shitty way of handling things, but _shouganai.”_

Shion didn’t know that word, but he nodded like he understood.

“Call them.” Nezumi closed his eyes like he was expecting to be punched in the face.

The phone call went over surprisingly easy. While there were some people complaining, most were excited for the experience. When Shion disconnected, he sighed with relief. “Done. Good.”

They sat in anxious silence for a long moment, each contemplating in his own way what was about to happen.

Then suddenly, Shion remembered something and frowned, his initial annoyance returning. “What makes you think I’m staying?”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow dismissively. “You are.”

“You shouldn’t assume! This ultimatum, or… ‘proposal’ or whatever is actually really cruel! You can’t mess with a person like that.” Shion folded his arms and tried his best to be intimidating. He could tell he failed by Nezumi’s expression.

Nezumi pushed himself back up to a sitting position with a groan. “Then leave.” He reached over the side of the mattress and pulled on the prosthetic, turning the little knob in the side so it was tight.

“I don’t want to!” frustration flared in his chest at Nezumi’s nonchalant demeanor, and he really didn’t want to cry again. “I _just_ got you back.”

Nezumi scowled. “Then _stay,_ Shion! I don’t know what to tell you! What do you want from me?” He stood up, glaring down at Shion.

“I don’t know.” Shion thought about it. Less than having an actual reason to be upset, he was just pissed off because Nezumi was being so cold. Maybe he’d built up their reunion too much in his head. Maybe he’d been a stupid romantic, and this was just reality slapping him in the face again. He growled with frustration at himself, and tried to speak like he knew for sure he was right. “Maybe stop thinking so black-and-white for one second and realize that there’s a _whole lot more_ in the world than what you can see.” Shion stood up too, trying to look taller than he was.

Nezumi’s expression was almost humorous. “Kettle, Shion. If we’re speaking of naiveté.” He folded his arms. Shion’s focus was thrown for a moment as he tried to reverse engineer what he had said that would make Nezumi imply stupidity on his part even at all. Nezumi continued like it was nothing. “What I see and what you see are worlds apart. Similarly, what I feel and what you feel are night and day. I told you how I feel. I was upfront with you. If you can’t accept that, it’s your prerogative, and you can bail out any time you want. You can even go home with your friends six days from now.”

Shion’s fists clenched, and he screamed in frustration. “Gaah! Do you not realize how horrible you’re being?” He felt like a small child being reasoned with by a parent who clearly understood reason better than him. It was humiliating, arguing his emotions to Nezumi’s logic. Yet, he felt his side was important too. Weren’t friendships (or whatever it was that they had) supposed to be subjective experiences rather than something you could argue your way in or out of? That was a difficult point to make, especially when he was upset.

Nezumi’s eyes darkened. “Am I horrible? Or is it only that I manage to offend you with my honesty?”

Shion didn’t know. But was that so wrong? He pulled at his hair. Talking to Nezumi, he often felt like he was speaking in another language. One that Nezumi was native to, and could twist and manipulate a thousand times better than Shion could ever dream of doing.

“Would you rather me pretend for you?” Nezumi continued, his voice low and threatening. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent actor.” His eyes widened and brightened considerably, and he made his voice sweet and high. “God, Shion, you know what? You’re right. It was wrong of me to put such a responsibility on your shoulders.”

Shion frowned with mistrust at this situation. “What are you doing?” He asked, warily taking a step away.

Nezumi laughed in a strangely feminine manner, shifting his weight to stand in such a way that even the shape of his body looked altered. Like he had a female figure. “I guess I should apologize. I forgot my place. I’m sorry.”

Shion took another step away, and his back hit the wall. “Stop it.”

“Let me make it up to you.” Nezumi walked forward, wrapping his hands around Shion’s waist and slipping his fingers in his waistband. “If you’ll still have me,” he purred and sunk to his knees.

“Whoa- _stop it!”_ Shion screamed, shoving him away. Nezumi fell back on the floor, prosthetic leg twisted under him awkwardly. The spell was broken, and Nezumi was himself again. Shion swallowed against the panicked heartbeat in his throat. “What the hell was that?”

“My fucking job!” Nezumi stood up, scowling. “Didn’t you know? Or were you too busy jerking off to the poverty porn of West Block to figure it out?”

Images of prostitutes and starving children of West Block flashed before Shion’s eyes, and panic gripped his chest.

“You fucking loved it out there.” Nezumi scoffed. “Remember, you wanted to stay? In that cesspool? How you kept your rose colored glasses from being stolen off your face along with that smile of yours is astounding.”

A familiar twinge of pain in the back of Shion’s neck resurfaced as it often did during memories of West Block. His breathing faltered, and he tried to stay focussed. Nezumi had been in that hellhole of a town for four years. It wasn’t fair of Shion to have such terrifying flashbacks when he’d only been there three months. What had Nezumi seen? What had Eve done? Shion blinked back tears of heartbreak for the tiny twelve year old boy he had sewn back together all those years ago. “I never thought-“

“Of course you didn’t,” Nezumi spat. “When do you think, Shion? All that school you went to, and they forgot to teach you to think? I never set foot in a classroom, and I’m _always_ better than you. While you learned how to score points in school, I learned how to make the world do what I needed it to. You know how I learned? Real consequences! If you say the wrong thing, you go home from work with bruises on your chest. If you suck the right dick, you get to eat that night.”

Shion winced. Nezumi’s words somehow managed to lay physical pain on his body. He steeled himself. “That’s-“

“Horrible?” Nezumi supplied. “I’m aware.”

“No.” Shion scowled. “That’s your fucking problem.”

Nezumi looked surprised.

“The world is different now. Neither of us were raised to exist in a place like this. You were a feral child, and now you’re living in an apartment in a city. I was a gear in the heart of a fascist machine, and now I’m running a socialist democracy.” He gulped against his nerves. “But that’s irrelevant. Because the point is you can’t treat me like a child anymore. We’ve both been displaced, and we’re both refugees to a new world. We’re both just trying to live past what’s happened, and you insisting your shit stinks worse is useful to no one. Suck it up and deal in the present,” Shion concluded confidently.

Nezumi stared at him, stunned. “Alright. I give.”

Shion grinned.

“You’re not a child,” Nezumi acquiesced. “You’re a damn politician.”

Shion frowned, but accepted that. Close enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had the idea for the following (dark) bonus scene since forever. I mentioned it in my other Nezushi fic “His Quietus Make,” or as it’s been so lovingly dubbed by some, “The Death Kink Fic.”
> 
> Nezumi coughed violently, and sat gingerly on the floor of the theater. The bullet wound that weird kid had stitched up for him was still hurting, and he hadn’t eaten in two days. Although, admittedly, not eating might have been an advantage towards the… actions… he had just performed since it meant his gag reflex was weakened. He was shaking violently. Whether with hunger, nerves, or sheer disgust with himself, he wasn’t sure.
> 
> The theater director zipped up his pants and patted Nezumi’s head. “See? Working like a big kid isn’t so bad. I bet you feel like a real grown-up now.”
> 
> Nezumi struggled against the tears in his eyes. If his grandmother were looking down on him from heaven now, what would she say? She would turn him away. She would call him weak and lazy and tell him _“Mao no otoko wa mattou tami de gozaru.”_ Mao boys are respectable people.
> 
> He was not a respectable person. He was scum prostrating himself to those in power and begging for food scraps. His grandmother would have died before doing what he had just done. He choked back a sob at which the theater director tutted, picking Nezumi up with his weird sweaty hands and putting the crying boy on his lap.
> 
> “There, there. You’re a good child, little one. You know how to do what you’re told. That’s an admirable trait. Besides, you have a nice voice. I’m sure I can find something to do with you.” He hummed and stroked Nezumi’s hair. “Innocence newly corrupted. I think I’ll call you Eve.”


	5. Twinkle twinkle little star

Shion stood in front of a bathroom mirror, eyes wide and full of awe at his own reflection. He wore a long, loose shirt with careful embroidery around the hem and the collar. His hair held two tight braids that ran along his hairline and came together in the back, and not a strand of white showed through the dark coloration Nezumi had applied.

“It’ll wash out in a couple days…” He looked uncomfortable and sad. “Your hair makes you stand out, is all.”

“It’s okay,” Shion assured. He wasn’t worried at all. It was kinda nostalgic to look at himself like that. His hair had been white for so long, he’d forgotten what he was supposed to look like. “It’s an interesting change. It hasn’t been this color in so long. It’s kinda cool to see.”

“Hopefully your eyes won’t draw too much attention. And you don’t exactly look like us, so… I guess just lay as low as possible for a while.” Nezumi frowned awkwardly.

Shion grinned, shrugging off Nezumi’s concerns. He was used to being stared at in No. 6. Children especially wanted to know about his hair, and his scar, and his eyes. “I don’t exactly look like anyone. I stand out so much at home, being of a different race shouldn’t be that big a deal.”

“You’d be surprised…” Nezumi mumbled, stepping out of the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” Shion bounced after him, excited. Nezumi had refused to tell him anything all day, despite Shion’s persistent questions. As annoying as it was, Shion was actually glad for the mystery as the four roommates got ready to leave.

“Downtown,” Nezumi answered, pulling on his shoes. “I think things will have started up by now.” It was nearing seven at night, and the sky was turning orange. The two boys walked down the stairs, closely followed by Nezumi’s two roommates, who were giggling and looking just as excited as Shion. The town was fascinating. The buildings thrust out of the ground like trees, wiry and cold. People were gradually funneling towards the center of town, dressed in traditional-looking clothing.

Looking around, Shion realized how much he really did stand out. In a sea of gray eyes, long black hair, and tan skin, he felt out of place. Like an intruder. He rubbed his arm, noticing now more than ever the lack of pigment, his naturally pale skin having been helped along by the wasp’s venom to the point it was translucent. After the war, during Babylon, each of the six cities had been flooded with immigrants, indigenous people becoming a thing of the past. Most people were of mixed heritage, although racial congregations were specific to certain areas. In No. 1, he’d heard people were a deep brown, with wide, sometimes golden eyes. No. 6 had been full of pale to tan people, all with similar dark hair and brown eyes. Even with the similarities of the people of No. 6, Shion was fascinated to see such a perfectly homogenous culture as that of the Mountain People.

“You look just like them…” Shion whispered to Nezumi, who glanced at him with slight confusion.

“Well… Sorta, yeah.” Nezumi raised an eyebrow. “We were the only people here for generations. Genetic diversity is a thing of this century.”

“It’s just that I’ve never seen anything like this before.” Shion wished he knew what both his parents looked like, suddenly curious about his own genetic makeup. “It’s not just your color. Your cheekbones are the same, the angle of your jaw… even your height is similar.” He briefly wondered what would happen if someone could retrieve the lost data on the human genome. Would it be possible to track down other people he was related to? He could see what features of his own face came from which parts of the pre-babylonian world. How fascinating that would be. “I’ve never seen anyone who looked as much like me as you guys look like each other.”

Nezumi nodded slowly, glancing back at Kara and Stroll, who were listening curiously. “Yeah.”

“Nezumi doesn’t look like us, really,” Kara piped up. “Honestly, I was thinking he really stood out until you walked in the door.”

“Yeah, you don’t even look human. Does everyone look like that where you’re from?” Stroll reached out to touch his arm.

Shion glanced down at his own skin too, as if it might reveal new information to him. “No, I didn’t always look like this. I got-“ Shion was interrupted by a loud crash of drums, and music started playing. The people walking picked up their pace. Nezumi tensed.

“It’s starting!” The girls squealed, grabbing the boys each by an arm and dragging them along.

“Hey, careful! I’m not as fast as you!” Nezumi protested.

“Oh yeah,” Stroll realized, slowing slightly. “I forgot you’re a cyborg.”

They arrived at a wide building with only one floor. Outside, people were playing music and dancing extremely close to each other. An array of tables, sagging under food and drink, outlined the area. In a ring of sand, a handful of people danced naked, in beautiful sinuous movements, completely synchronized. Several people touched Shion’s shoulders as they passed, and he became aware that touching was the norm. Half the people, including the women, were bare from the hips up.

Shion was overwhelmed. He wasn’t sure what the appropriate reaction to this situation was, so he just stood awkwardly, hoping people wouldn’t notice him.

“Oh, damn! I can see the culture shock smack him in slow motion!” Stroll laughed.

Shion tried to defend himself. “People of No. 6 don’t-“

“No, no, no! None of that here!” Kara waved a hand at him.

“I swear to god, that’s the favorite phrase of _No. 6 jin.”_ Nezumi laughed, seeming more comfortable knowing Shion was freaked out. He imitated a condescending tone, “Well, people of No. 6 don’t _honya-honya,_ people of No. 6 _wa yoku,_ etc. etc. _uso janai, No.6 jin wa kou, No.6 jin wa sou… mainichi itte iruyo.”_

Stroll laughed. _“Mao wa sore wo zenzen itte janai! Mao wa nandemo shitai toki ni, nandemo dekiruyo!”_

Nezumi grinned. _“Sou dane? Ureshii…”_

Shion was torn between annoyed and curious. He hadn’t considered that the Mao people would have their own language. “What language are you speaking? Are you making fun of me?” He had only managed to catch the words ‘No. 6’ and ‘Mao,’ so he figured they were comparing the two cultures.

“‘Course not,” Nezumi reassured. “Let’s go join the party.”

People swarmed to the center, children and adults alike dancing to the music. Strange as it seemed, Shion came to realize that the nudity wasn’t sexual at all. It just seemed to be normal for them. It made his head spin. Where he was from, even showing your collarbone was considered flashy and too exposing for proper settings. To be tossed right into the middle of a crowd of half naked people was making him considerably uncomfortable, and he wished people here had more personal space.

“He looks so scared!” Stroll yelled over the crowd.

“He’s terrified!” Nezumi called back, laughing.

“I’m just not used to this, that’s all,” Shion protested, trying his best to look comfortable and failing spectacularly as a bare-breasted woman hugged him. His cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he tried desperately to convey with eye-contact that he wasn’t looking down.

_“Atsu’bi omedetou!”_ She smiled at him and danced away.

Calls of _“Atsu’bi omedetou”_ rang out over the crowd as the music swelled. Over the course of the next half hour, Shion became gradually adjusted to the spectacle. Of course, he was aided along slightly by the strong but sweet drink Nezumi shoved in his hand.

“What is this?” Shion eyed it uncertainly. It was thick and creamy, with a strange looking pink coloration. He tasted it warily. Nearly painful sweetness coated his tongue, and Shion grimaced. “Ugh, what did I just drink?”

“It’s your friend, trust me. You look like you might pass out from anxiety.” Nezumi raised his own glass knowingly, and downed half of it in one go.

Soon after, things began to be more fun. As it got darker, large bonfires rocketed toward the sky, casting the dancers in a flickering glow. Children ran around with bags of yellow powder, throwing handfuls into the fire where it burst into purple flame. People smoked aromatic herbs out of long, spindly pipes, and puffed smoke rings that danced in the firelight.

However, just as he was getting comfortable, one of Nezumi’s roommates (honestly, he kept mixing them up) wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hey, we’re taking you inside.”

The other grabbed on to Nezumi, who squinted at her distrustfully. “You and _gaijin_ are going inside now.”

Nezumi shook his head firmly. “No chance in hell.”

The one attached to Shion smiled coyly. “Hey, _shirokami,_ wanna know what’s inside?”

Shion looked between Nezumi and her uncertainly. He did want to know what was in there, but Nezumi’s warning expression was a clear deterrent. After a brief internal struggle, his curiosity won out over his loyalty. “Yeah, what’s in there?”

“You’ll have to go see for yourself.” She giggled, grabbing his hand.

Nezumi grabbed his other, stopping them. “It’s his first day. You can’t do that to him.”

“Why? What’s in there?” Shion asked, not sure what to do about the tug-of-war that was happening to his arms. He felt a bit patronized.

“Nothing for now,” Nezumi said firmly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, come on,” one of the girls complained. “Inside’s the best part.”

“Not for kids.” Nezumi pulled Shion away and stepped in front of him protectively.

Shion twitched in annoyance. “I’m twenty eight,” he reminded.

“Are we really?” Nezumi looked back at him, mildly surprised. “You don’t act it. Still, you’re not going in there yet.”

“You don’t control him.” One of them pouted. “I’ll take him in _myself._ How do you feel about that?”

“You wouldn’t.” Nezumi challenged her, stepping forward so the two of them were practically chest to chest. Shion was reminded strongly of two silverback gorillas fighting over territory.

“Why? It’s not like _you care,_ right, Mimi?” The other one spoke up, eyes glinting deviously. “It’s not like we’ve heard you call out his name in your sleep or anything.”

“What?” Shion blushed, looking up.

Nezumi’s jaw dropped, and he blushed too. “That’s bullshit. What are you even getting out of this?”

She shrugged. “Sick laughs. Drunk drama. The possibility of live-action gay pornography.”

Nezumi punched her in the ribs, hard.

“Ow! Damn!” She stumbled backwards and scowled at him.

“Come on, Shion.” Nezumi grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him off to the side of the crowd, where tables held drinks and other refreshments. Nezumi poured two more of the sugary cocktails, and after a moment’s consideration, picked up one of the spindly looking pipes and filled it with ground something-or-other from a bowl. “I’m gonna show you something.” They edged around the tables and walked a short distance away to a cement platform. Nezumi climbed up, followed by Shion who managed with slightly less grace as he tried not to spill his drink.

“What are we doing?” Shion asked, settling down with his back to the cold wall behind them.

“Learning something,” Nezumi non-explained, pulling a lighter from-- did he have pockets? Shion didn’t have pockets. He was a little jealous.

Shion watched intently as Nezumi placed the pipe between his lips, pressed his thumb down on the side, and lit the bowl. A long moment later, he exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as a river of smoke streamed past his lips. “Your turn.”

“What is that?” Shion frowned slightly, unsure of this activity.

Nezumi leaned back against the wall, smiling a little, and said, “You’ll see.”

Shion hesitantly took the pipe, trying not to seem too mistrusting. Copying Nezumi’s movements exactly, his throat and lungs filled with a heavy smoke that tasted shockingly thick and sweet on his tongue. It hit him in the back of the throat, and left a strangely slimy residue down his airway. He coughed violently. “God, what--“ another coughing fit interrupted him. “What _is_ that?”

Nezumi laughed at him. “It’s a lot of things. It’s pretty much the same herbal blend we use for tea ceremonies.” He took the pipe back, still grinning. “You’ll notice the inside of pretty much every building here smells like this stuff. It becomes the neutral scent.” He took another long draw, and they both watched as tendrils of white smoke wove their way up into the atmosphere.

After a while, Shion’s initially scalded throat adjusted, and they sat in silence, watching the ever brightening stars shimmer in the blue night.

“I like the little ones,” Nezumi commented. “The ones that disappear if you look right at them.”

“Hmm.” Shion sighed, leaning against Nezumi. “I like the bright ones that reference everything else against them. I like the north star.”

Nezumi slowly unbraided Shion’s hair, twisting it between his fingers. “It’s prettier white.”

Suddenly, inexplicably, Shion’s heart swelled with sadness. His eyes stung, and he grabbed Nezumi’s hand. “I miss you so much.” He wanted to cry. The realness of his situation hit him like a ton of bricks, sending him spiraling out of his body into the sticky-sweet smoke in the air. With a gasp, he realized he really was crying. Tears were running hot and wet down his cheeks, and he wasn’t sure how to stop them, or even why they had started. “I miss you so _much.”_ He didn’t know why he was saying it. Nezumi was there beside him, finally. Still, it felt like a dream, and he couldn’t help the tightness of panic in his chest that at any moment he was going to wake up alone, alarm clock blaring warnings of a meeting in forty five minutes. That fear overtook him, crawling up his bones and nearly choking him. “I miss you so much. Please stay. _Please, please stay.”_

Shion gasped in shock as Nezumi wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. “My god.” He rubbed Shion’s back as he cried. “Shh, it’s okay…” He laughed, and Shion felt comforted by the deep vibrations in his chest. Like being rocked to sleep. “It’s okay,” Nezumi continued. “I’m cutting you off, wow.”

Shion sighed, feeling as though he could stay like this forever. Being wrapped in Nezumi’s arms felt like safety; it was warm, and he felt loved. “I don’t want to go.” He hugged Nezumi tighter. “Can’t we stay here forever?” His bottom lip trembled, and he clutched Nezumi’s shirt.

“Mhm. It’s fine. We can stay as long as you want.” Nezumi reassured, still rubbing his back soothingly.

Shion hummed contentedly at the feeling of Nezumi’s voice reverberating in his chest. “I like the way your chest moves when you talk. It sends vibrations through my whole body…”

He felt Nezumi laughing. “Oh my god… Shion, wow.”

“Sing to me?” Shion asked, nuzzling closer. The world seemed to spin around him, but Nezumi was a fixed point keeping him grounded.

Nezumi hesitated. “If you let me take you home now.”

Shion tensed, fear of rejection consuming him. “No! I just got here!” He wanted to cry. “I can’t leave yet.”

“No, no, no!” Nezumi stroked his hair, laughing again. “Just back to my place. Okay?” He pulled back just enough to look Shion in the eyes.

Shion wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to be alone with the earth tonight. Everything spun, and he worried that without Nezumi he might just spin away with it. “Will you come with me?”

Nezumi smiled, a little condescendingly. “How am I supposed to sing for you if I don’t come with you?”

Was that a real question? Shion didn’t have an answer. Honestly, he had no clue of Nezumi’s capabilities, so maybe-

“I meant to say yes.” Nezumi corrected himself. “I’ll come with you.”

“Okay.” Shion sighed and decided to trust Nezumi. Just for now. Then maybe forever.

Slowly, Nezumi detached himself with a discontented groan from Shion. “Let me help you down.”

Shion nodded, realizing that he probably couldn’t do that on his own. Oddly enough, he wasn’t quite sure he remembered how to move his legs in that way. “What’s happening?” He asked dazedly.

Nezumi hopped off the cement platform effortlessly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out later.” He extended a hand to Shion, and basically lifted him off the platform and onto his feet. “Let’s go, little star.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many Mao hair head canons, so I put a few into the bonus scene. Also, I kept thinking about Nezumi's reactions to meeting his people, and maybe they wouldn't all be positive. When me and my Japanese-American roommate were living together in Tokyo, she was surprised by how people treated her just like me (obviously not Japanese), even though she grew up in little Tokyo in California her whole life, and felt it was her culture. I wondered about how Nezumi would feel, being treated like an outsider when he had _just_ found the people he'd been told he was a part of his entire life. Anyway, here's the bonus scene:
> 
>  
> 
> Nezumi’s new roommates stared at him blankly. The two girls who had eagerly offered their extra room on sublease now stood with crossed arms, facing him.
> 
> “Your hair is a disaster,” the one named Stroll said. Apparently, her given name was Yuuho, which she hated, so she loosely translated it to Stroll.
> 
> Nezumi frowned. “I’m not cutting it.”
> 
> Stroll looked horrified. “God no, you’re not cutting it. You already just got your leg cut off, damn. But you look like a _gaishou,_ so let me braid it.”
> 
> Nezumi was a bit confused. Their accent was still tricky to him. “A what?”
> 
> She sighed and switched languages. “A whore. I know you’re not Mao-”
> 
> “I am.”
> 
> “-But here we braid our hair.” She lead him to the couch and sat him down, starting to braid. “Hair is very important in Mao culture.”
> 
> “I know, I’m Mao,” Nezumi insisted again, getting annoyed.
> 
> Stroll ignored him. “Braided hair is a sign of a respectable person. And you don’t cut your hair. Only when you’ve done something unforgivable. You’ll learn our customs soon enough.”
> 
> Nezumi scowled. _“Watashi wo sodateta Mao mo ita sobo wa zenbu oshiete kuremashita! Mori tami sore ni Mao tami de gozaru kara!”_ I am Mao and I am of the Forest People, so my grandmother, who is also Mao and raised me, taught me all of that!
> 
> The two stared at him. Chikara (or Kara, as she preferred) spoke. “You’ve almost gotten fluent in our language already. Your grammar’s weird, and you kinda talk like a storybook, but I’m impressed. Who taught you?”
> 
> _“KUSO! KORE WA ORE NO_ NATIVE LANGUAGE!” Nezumi buried his face in his hands, frustrated beyond belief.
> 
> The two girls looked at each other awkwardly. Stroll cleared her throat. “Um, sorry, what? I can’t understand your accent.”


	6. Rokutousei no yoru no ato de

Shion woke up with a violent start the next morning to Nezumi slapping him in the chest. He gasped in shock and opened his eyes blearily to a too-bright room. His brain grinded back into gear slowly, and he realized the sun was way too high for it to be morning. He sat up groggily, muscles aching like he’d run a marathon.

“What?” His voice cracked, and he rubbed his throat. His mouth was painfully dry.

“Wake up.” Nezumi stood, dressed in the same clothes from last night. They looked slept-in. His hair was still braided, but strands had come undone and stuck up in the air, full of static.

“What time is it?” Shion croaked, not sure he remembered coming home. He tried to think through the previous night, but it only managed to make him more confused.

“Dunno. I just woke up too.” Nezumi stretched, and popped his spine in several places. “The girls aren’t home. I assume they passed out at the party last night. Lots of people do. We’ll go scrape them off the sidewalk later.” He stifled a yawn and started untangling his hair.

The party… Memories were coming back to Shion one by one. “Did we leave…?”

“Yeah, obviously. You don’t remember? You were so messed up, I’m not surprised if you don’t.” Nezumi opened the door and strode over to the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush.

Shion brushed a hand through his messy hair, pulling a strand down in front of his eyes to stare at the strange coloration. “I don’t feel hungover.” Whenever Shion drank so much he blacked things out like this, he tended to wake up with a pounding headache and nausea. That morning, he just felt tired. And a little dehydrated.

“Good on you, then. Wanna go find the girls or say fuck that and enjoy the quiet house?” Nezumi fell down on the couch, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He fumbled around for the remote to the old television set that sat on the table in front of him. The ancient machine was duct taped together in several places, and the cable in the back looked like mice had chewed it. A whir of static filled the room as the TV crackled to life.

“Hm,” Shion hummed noncommittally, standing shakily. “I’m hungry.” He shuffled off to the bathroom to get cleaned up, pulling his wrinkled shirt over his head. By the time he stepped out of the shower, feeling better, Nezumi was in the kitchen cooking.

“It’s twelve-thirty. We slept late,” Nezumi informed him. Shion looked over Nezumi’s shoulder as the latter smashed yellow things in a bowl. Shion wasn’t sure what it was, but it smelled good.

“Are the girls still out?” Shion asked, searching the cabinets for a glass.

Nezumi frowned. “Hm… They probably found their way to a bed if they’re not back yet. I’m sure we’ll see them tonight.” He doled out scoops of the yellow mush onto pieces of flatbread and handed one to Shion. It was pretty good. Kind of salty with a lot of strange spices Shion had never tasted before.

The two ate lunch on the couch, watching an old romance movie in a language Shion didn’t understand.

“Do you really know what they’re saying?” he asked, squinting at the lady on the screen as she clutched at her heart in sadness.

“Yeah, pretty much. This is an old Mountain People dialect, though,” Nezumi replied, setting down his empty plate. “I grew up with the modern Forest dialect, which was my first language.” He laughed. “When I first came here, I hadn’t spoken it in years. The doctor who fixed my leg thought that I’d been brain damaged when she tried to talk to me. I had the vocabulary of a ten year old, and a weirdly archaic manner of speaking. I sounded like my grandmother.”

Shion nodded, amazed. He wished he knew another language. “That’s really cool.” The image in the movie changed to a night sky. Dozens of little stars twinkled in the background as the protagonist wept. Suddenly, Shion remembered something from the night before and smiled. “Hey, remember the stars last night?”

Nezumi nodded. “You have a weirdly selective memory.”

“Can you say, ‘Night of the littlest stars?’” Shion looked over at Nezumi, who was frowning with bemusement at him.

“Um, probably. Ever gonna come up in conversation, you think?” Nezumi asked.

Shion shrugged. “I want a name for last night.”

“You don’t name nights,” Nezumi insisted.

“I do.” Shion finished the last bite of his lunch, and put the plate on the table. “Ones I want to remember.”

Nezumi raised a skeptical eyebrow, but he appeared to be thinking about it. “Um, I guess… _Rokutousei no yoru.”_

_“Rokutousei no yoru,”_ Shion repeated, struggling a bit to get his mouth around the sounds. “Is that right?”

Nezumi nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Shion’s heart swelled with happiness. “I just spoke your language.”

“Yeah,” Nezumi agreed. “Welcome to the mountains.”

Shion smiled, and the two finished the movie together in silence.

The day was lazy. It seemed nobody worked during the week of Atsu’bi, so the streets were inhabited only by wandering people with hangovers who didn’t look quite sure of where they were. At around five, Kara and Stroll walked back in and went to their separate rooms without a word, only emerging at seven, grinning and dressed.

“Ready to go?” Stroll bounced over to the door.

“Day two, should be fun…” Kara followed her, opening the door.

Nezumi followed, looking very much like a dog on the way to the vet. “Hm.”

Shion followed behind, actually pretty excited. Now that he knew what to expect, this night should be even more fun.

The party started similarly, a great crash of drums followed by haunting yet energetic music sung by adults and children alike. Yet, people reacted differently. Rather than swarming, half-naked, to the middle, they stood facing the stage solemnly, and took a collective breath.

_Tengoku e_  
Issho ni shi ni aitai   
Hitori de   
Samayoitakunai 

Shion watched as everybody sang along, in several part harmony. Everyone seemed to know their part and sang it with such conviction and precision that the whole thing came together as one voice. It was beautiful. He looked at Nezumi, who was singing too. He couldn’t take his eyes away.

_Ureshisou ikimashou na_  
Kochira e iku   
Watashi no ai shita mono wa   
Hito de gozaru. 

The song seemed to extend both into eternity and to be over too soon. The people stood in silence afterwards, eyes half-closed as if put into a trance by their own singing. Shion felt the same. Every muscle in his body felt relaxed. He felt clean. A moment later, a stranger took his hand. Nezumi took his other. The whole crowd stood in silence for another long moment, eyes raised to the sky, then out of nowhere, giant flames erupted, lighting the center like day. Shion felt Nezumi flinch, and he looked over to see a carefully controlled expression of calm. He felt a pang of sadness in his heart at that. Shion squeezed his hand lightly, and Nezumi scowled at him. The flames died down slowly, leaving trails of hot coals spiraling out into the night. Children ran forward with their bags of yellow powder, tossing handfuls down into the coals to create bright purple sparks. Slow, wavering music rang out from instruments Shion had never seen before. People started walking around slowly, touching each other’s shoulders and hair. Several people ran their fingers through Shion’s hair curiously. Even with the dark coloring, it was comparatively short to most people’s, who had theirs grown to shoulder length at least.

Nezumi frowned at them, pulling Shion close to him, “This one’s mine,” he announced to a woman who took Shion’s hand. Gradually, everyone paired up, wrapping their arms around each other to dance. Nezumi grimaced at Kara and Stroll’s wide-eyed stares.

With his arms wrapped around Nezumi’s waist, Shion smiled. “Do you remember?”

“How bad you were at dancing before I got a hold of you? Of course.” Nezumi smiled and pulled Shion up against his chest as the music swelled.

Shion stared blindly over Nezumi’s shoulder, completely taken in by the sensation of closeness. It’s not like Nezumi was very physically conservative, yet he was such an emotional statue that Shion couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude every time he was shown affection. He prayed silently that this would never end, that he could keep this moment forever, preserved in amber on his shelf. They stepped in a gentle rhythm, their movements breathing in and out with the rest of the crowd. Shion tried to notice everything, to commit every last detail to memory. The way the coals gave a warm glow to the purple night; the way a thousand sleepy faces rested, eyes shut, on their partner's shoulders; the way Nezumi’s fingers tangled in Shion’s hair, twirling the strands like they belonged to him; the way his torso moved under Shion’s hands.

Too soon the music ended, and partners stepped apart. Nezumi was smiling lightly at him, still holding one of his hands.

“I like the second night,” Shion breathed, eyes wide and cheeks slightly flushed.

“Me too.” Nezumi pulled him off to the side, choosing to retreat to the relative quiet of the perimeter rather than stay in the throng.

After a moment of silence, Shion’s curiosity overpowered his impulse-control. “So, what’s inside?”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. “Seriously, nothing important.”

“Then show me.” Shion challenged, watching as more and more people made their way in.

“When you’re ready,” Nezumi replied, looking away.

“I’m ready! What possibly could be in there that I’d need to be prepared for?” Shion folded his arms in annoyance. “I’ll just go without you, you know.”

Nezumi tensed nearly imperceptibly, but when he looked back, his eyes held humor and a small spark of something Shion wasn’t sure he was comfortable with. “Tomorrow. _If_ you’re willing to sleep outside tonight.”

Shion frowned. “Why?”

Nezumi grinned, scanning the crowd. “Because if you’re ready for inside, you’re certainly ready for outside.”

Shion accepted the challenge, a sense of responsibility gripping him. “Okay.”

People danced with a serenity that hadn’t existed the previous night. By Shion’s first impression the night before, he might have assumed that these people knew nothing but unbridled, celebratory energy. Now, an oxytocin droop was present in each eyelid that half-concealed rolling gray eyes with blown pupils. Cheeks were flushed, and everyone moved as if they were discovering the sensation of movement for the first time, fascinated by their own swaying anatomies. Music drove every emotion, every twitch of muscle as if the ground itself were dancing and tossing the people in the air. Sound and vision and physical sensation became one intoxicating cocktail of consciousness, nearly overwhelming Shion’s spiraling mind, especially when Nezumi took his hands and pulled him close.

“If we’re going to be here all night, we might as well participate.” He wrapped his hands around Shion’s waist, bringing their foreheads together and highlighting the nearly nonexistent height difference there was between them now.

Shion blushed, heart pounding at a volume he was positive was audible to the entire crowd. He wanted to ask a million questions, as much as this situation, this _position_ seemed romantic, doubts crushed his voice and halted his actions. “Participate?”

“Mhm,” Nezumi hummed, closing his eyes. “By virtue of our past together, I’m ashamed to admit I trust you with my life. That shame is only accentuated by the fact that I know nothing about you, and we might as well be strangers for all the time we’ve spent together.” His voice was low, and trembled with honesty that gave Shion chills. “The point here being that I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t know you, and I have nothing to say. However, if I had to pick a companion for the night, it would be you. I have faith in your character, I suppose.”

Shion wasn’t sure whether to feel sad or happy. He decided on both, because that’s how it was with Nezumi. There were moments so beautiful it broke his heart, and moments (occurring with equal frequency) that his heart was intentionally crushed by Nezumi’s spiteful fist. Yet, he never felt lied to, and for that Shion was grateful. After a moment, he realized he hadn’t said anything. In another moment, he realized he had nothing to say.

Nezumi opened his eyes to Shion’s silence, holding his gaze for a long moment before breaking the still by kissing him.

Shion’s brain scattered a million different directions, from shocked to overjoyed, from confused to embarrassed. They were out in public, after all. He settled down after a moment and remembered to kiss back. They had done this three times before, yet this felt completely new. This was no goodbye or goodnight; this was intent with no clear message other than _continue._ Shion felt his skin activate and his thoughts ignite. Suddenly, the word ‘romantic’ no longer applied. Some new concept for which he had no name was glaring him in the face and grinning at his lack of understanding.

After a moment, Nezumi pulled away to look Shion in the eyes. “You look surprised,” he commented.

Shion just gaped. “I… Uh…”

Nezumi looked amused. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one who’s done that to you.”

Shion didn’t answer.

“Are you serious?” Nezumi laughed, taking a step back. “You’re twenty eight!”

So what? He’d never even considered getting that close to another person. Not once in his life. Shion looked at him seriously. “I’ve loved you. For a long time.”

Silence fell between them. When the uncomfortable tension became too much to bear, Nezumi spoke again. “Are you serious?” This time it had a very different intent. His words were cold, withdrawn.

“For as long as I can remember,” Shion replied honestly. “Since we met.” Shion really was the perfect example of true monogamy. He had known in his soul since he was twelve years old that there was only one person who could steal his heart. It was obvious, even as a child, the profundity of his devotion by the way he whispered Nezumi’s name like a prayer. Throughout his life, every friend Shion had ever made knew the name. Most initially thought he was talking about a pet. Some had begun to doubt that Shion’s ‘Nezumi’ was even real, as the child never had anything more to say than “He’s someone I met some time ago.”

There had been a time where Karan had grown concerned. It had pained her to see her son looking so bereft and heartbroken. Since this happened simultaneously with their eviction from Chronos, it had been especially difficult on them both.

Standing in the darkness of the Mountain Village, and for the first time Shion could recall, Nezumi looked genuinely put out of place. “Shion, I…” He broke off, looking away.

Suddenly, Shion felt he was being challenged. “You said you loved me too,” he reminded. “You said that to me two nights ago!”

“I did!” Nezumi looked back up, eyes wide and apologetic. “I did. Twelve years ago.”

What cruel and simple words could sting like chlorine in his eyes more than those? Past tense. A long time ago. “I _loved_ you,” Nezumi had said. I loved you then. Not now.

“Not anymore,” Shion confirmed, understanding the awful miscommunication.

Nezumi hesitated, then nodded. “I don’t know you anymore.”

“I know you!” Shion bit the inside of his lip, wanting for once to be the one who was strong.

Nezumi’s briefly compromised wall shot back up in an instant. “No, you don’t.”

Anguish tore Shion’s throat. “How can you say that? After all this time?”

“All this time…” Nezumi scoffed. “Three months together, then twelve years apart.”

Shion took a step forward. “I _do_ know you,” he insisted. “Not everything, but a lot!”

Nezumi’s gaze was cold. “Really?”

“Yes!”

“What’s my name?” He folded his arms, staring right back at Shion with more intensity that the other could ever manage.

Shion’s voice twisted in his throat, coming out of him as a hoarse squeak. He stepped away and hid his eyes which were close to overflowing yet again.

“Well?” Nezumi prompted. “I’m waiting.”

Shion desperately wiped his eyes. “Tell me.”

“Wrong answer.” Nezumi turned away and walked off into the crowd.

Shion just stood, stunned. Things had been so good just a moment ago. How was it that every time they had a decent moment, something broke again? He was getting whiplash. Had it always been like this between them? Was he romanticizing how things used to be?

A stranger clapped a hand on Shion’s shoulder, making him jump. “Hey, that sucks.” A guy with long hair and gray eyes who Shion had never met was standing right next to him. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s totally his loss. You’re _weird_ looking. In a good way.”

It didn’t sound like a good way. “Thanks…” Shion’s focus was divided between this man’s oddly blunt words and Nezumi’s quickly retreating figure.

The man nodded. “Sure. How’d you get like that, anyway? I’m guessing no aspect of all this,” the man began as he drew a circle in the air around Shion’s face, “is coincidental. It’s just a little _too_ bizarre to be a series of incidents, you know? I mean, like, is there a name or something for what caused this? Something syndrome or whatever?”

Shion wasn’t sure how to take that. He’d never been spoken too like this before, in such a direct, rude manner. “Um… well, it’s kinda a long story.”

“I got time.” The man shrugged. “I’ll sit all night and listen if it’ll ease my curiosity. Plus, I don’t have a dance partner either, and I’d love to stare at those crazy eyes without seeming rude.”

“Oh.” Those eyes widened as Shion realized what was going on. He looked over his shoulder where Nezumi had disappeared, and in a spiteful moment, he threw all his ideas of loyalty and caution into the wind. He smiled sweetly back at the guy who was flirting with him. “Yeah, sure. What’s your name?”

“Kawari.” He grinned, taking Shion’s hand.

“Great. Now I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the next chapter. Two days in advance, I'm saying my prayers. I'm really sorry, guys.
> 
> BUT FOR NOW! BONUS STORY! You know that feeling when you're intermediate/advanced in a second language, and you think you're so hot until you meet a native speaker? Then you're just like, "Oh god. They're saying... Words. I know the words... Just... I dunno, something about a library?" And everything just sounds scrambled and it gives you a headache. SO HERE'S THAT FEEL:
> 
>  
> 
> Muffled sounds filled Nezumi’s ears. He could sense a hard surface beneath him, but he couldn’t seem to sense himself. He was fully conscious by this point, and he’d carefully worked through the old postulate “I think, therefore I am,” assuring himself he was in fact real. Suddenly, Nezumi realized he couldn’t remember leaving the forest, yet here he was on a clearly man-made surface with people speaking around him.
> 
> “What length there is remaining of his life is uncertain.” A scrambled sounding sentence cut through the fog in Nezumi’s mind. “The bleeding by me has been halted, but even if he wakes up, we must his leg sectumvide.” The last word sounded harsh and important, but for the life of him, Nezumi had no clue what it meant. Really, every word sounded out of place.
> 
> He managed to open his eyes. “Uungh..”
> 
> “You’re awake!” A woman with long black hair looked down on him. “The things that have happened to you, you’re aware of them, yes?”
> 
> Nezumi blinked at her, some sensation returning to his body. _“Nani sore?”_
> 
> Her eyes widened. “Oh. Um… Your prodromic experientials.” She spoke slow and loud. “Are you in recollection?”
> 
> _“Nani wo itte iru?”_ What are you saying? Nezumi was annoyed. He had no idea where he was, what had happened, or what these people were saying. Those words didn’t even fit in his brain properly. They almost sounded like… No. No way. “Oh!” He exclaimed, suddenly feeling much more awake, even though he couldn’t move his body. “You’re speaking Maoigo!” With a dizzying rush of adrenaline to his still cloudy brain, all sensation came back to him. He hadn’t spoken that language in years. Painful emotions he had no time to sort through overwhelmed him in that moment, and he carefully tried to speak back. “That’s my language!” He felt tears running down his cheeks, but couldn’t figure out how to make his hands move to wipe them away. “That’s my language.”
> 
> “The tongue of ours is spoken by you as well?” The woman asked. “That’s good.”
> 
> “Yes!” Nezumi struggled to move his hands. He wanted to sit up and look at the people who were speaking to him this way. He didn’t care if this was a dream, or if he was in heaven. He just wanted to look into the eyes of whoever still knew how to speak to him. “I’m from the forest!” He relished in saying those words. They hadn’t graced his tongue in so long. He felt a rush of pride, and said again, “I’m from the Mao forests.” 
> 
> “Your person was begat of the forest? That manner of speech you use what is strange to us is thereby explained.” The woman nodded thoughtfully. “All the people who were, they aren’t?”
> 
> Nezumi frowned. “What?”
> 
> “All the people. The Forest People. They aren’t? That’s what was thought by us.” She looked sad.
> 
> _They aren’t?_ Nezumi thought about it for a long moment before it hit him. “Oh. No. They aren’t.” A long buried grief rose in his chest. “I’m the last one.”


	7. I slept with the substitute teacher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright- I apologize. Feel free to hate on me in the comments for this, because I deserve it.
> 
> Ugh.

Shion’s heart hammered as he stared into eyes that were familiar in color and shape, yet entirely different. He was suddenly self conscious about every aspect of his body as he realized that this person, Kawari, knew only his physical self. His heart skipped a beat as he realized that meant he could lie. He could lie to this person about whatever he wanted, putting himself in charge. Since Kawari had sought him out just because of his appearance, what would lying matter? Shion had never really thought of himself as anything special when it came to pure physical attractiveness, but if that what he was being sought out for, he might as well make it count. He tried to remember how Nezumi smiled around people who reacted this way to his body. Sweetly, but in a strangely dominant way.

It seemed to work, because Kawari smiled back, and nervously took a step towards Shion. “Hey, you never told me your name.”

“Shion.” The truth fell off his tongue before he could stop it.

“Shion,” Kawari repeated. It sounded strange with his slight Mountain accent, and the way he rolled it across his tongue like he was savoring each letter. “Never heard that before. You’re really beautiful, you know.”

Shion blushed, surprised at his forwardness. “Th-thank you…” He tried to think of a response. “So are you.”

Kawari laughed. “You look nervous. Wanna get high before? I always appreciate a social lubricant.”

Shion was taken aback. He’d never done anything like that before, yet he didn't want to be the student with this guy as well. He could lie. He could be anything. He smiled, “Sure.”

Kawari grinned, running over to one of the tables and grabbing a pipe. Shion’s eyes widened as he put things together.

_Nezumi didn’t tell me…_ An indignant scowl overcame his face as he figured out what had happened to him the night before. _He should have warned me._ Well, at least lying wouldn’t be as hard if it was mostly truth. As pissed at he was with Nezumi, he was glad he knew what to expect. When the tingling sensation hit him, he was able to make himself look calm.

Kawari less so. His eyelids drooped and he smiled goofily, wrapping his arms around Shion’s waist and pulling him into the crowd. “I’m gonna be honest with you, Shion,” he said, running his thumb over the scar on Shion’s face. “I think you’re hot and I was staring at you yesterday too. So even though you were with Nezumi- I know him, he’s an asshole, I don’t care if he’s disabled- I’m still psyched you like guys. I figured I’d grab this opportunity as fast as I could.”

Shion didn’t know what to say. “Yeah. That’s honest.” He looked down, thinking. _Do I like guys? I like Nezumi, but I never considered…_ His whole sexual life had been so consumed with one person, he’d never really thought about his preferences in general.

Kawari just laughed, pulling him closer, “You’re not from here, are you? You can’t be. I would have noticed you just walking through the streets. Especially with the short hair. Damn, I gotta say it’s kind of a turn on. I have a thing for bad boys, I guess.”

“Bad boys?” Shion asked, laughing uncomfortably.

“Yeah.” Kawari touched Shion’s hair. “You know, here, cutting your hair means you’ve done something really awful. Maybe where you’re from it means something different?”

Shion glanced around. Every single person wore their hair in long neat braids down the back or sides. _I can lie,_ he reminded himself. “I got arrested for murder.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. It’s just that it was a long time ago, and the police had been lying about the murder. Although, admittedly, he had killed a different cop a few months later… Maybe it was a bit more true than he’d thought.

Kawari looked shocked. “Are you serious?” He shook his head in amazement. _“Maji na no? Satsujinhan shi ii otoko shi--”_ He broke off, frowning. “Oh. You’re not Mao.”

Shion grinned sheepishly, shaking his head. “I’m from West Block,” he lied again. “I have no idea what you just said.”

Kawari’s eyes were full of awe. “This is insane. Wow, I kinda really want you to fuck me right now.” He slid his hands down to Shion’s hips, and raked his eyes across Shion’s entire body.

Shion tried hard not to blush in horror at that statement, and failed. “Haha, really?” He schooled his expression, attempting to look nonchalant.

“Yes, oh my god.” Kawari assured earnestly. “I’ve never met a real _gaijin_ in my life. I’ve never seen someone actually cut their hair, only in stories. And I’ve never left this city.” He looked down at his hands on Shion’s hips. “Tell me about yourself. Tell me about West Block. What’s it like? What do the people look like?”

Shion wasn’t sure where to begin. He was also more than a little distracted by the way Kawari was handling his body. Kawari ran his hands up and down Shion’s sides and back, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Shion gulped. “It’s… Gotten better. Since No. 6 fell.”

_“Uso da yo! Muri na to omotta!_ No. 6 fell???” He let go of Shion and stepped away, color draining from his face. _“Dou shita no?_ Who did this? How long ago?”

Shion was surprised by Kawari’s shameless display of emotion. It was especially odd, because it put Shion in the novel position of being the reserved, knowledgeable one. He played on that dynamic gladly. “Twelve years,” Shion informed him solemnly. “The walls are down. Citizenship is open.”

Kawari kissed two of his fingers, raising them to the sky. _“Kami-sama wa nandemo itadakemasu!”_ It sounded like prayer. “Shion, you’re not lying?”

“No.” Shion shook his head. “I’m not.”

Kawari lunged forward and embraced him. “You really are… My god, I’m so glad I spoke to you. You have to tell everyone!”

Shion pushed him away, relishing in the power move. “We will. In time. Be patient.”

Kawari reached out and touched his face, gazing in awe. “I can’t express… I have so many questions. My god, Shion... Can I kiss you?”

Was it really possible to say no to a question like that? Especially in the far more open Mao culture. Shion channeled Nezumi, and shrugged. Kawari beamed and leaned in, then just like that, Nezumi _wasn’t_ the only person who had done that to him. Kawari was different. He drew from Shion, rather than impressed upon him. With wonder, Shion realized he had the power. Kawari was submitting to him. They didn’t even know each other.

Their kiss lasted until the two ran out of breath, and pulled apart flushed and gasping. The second it was over, Shion was filled with an incredible guilt. This was wrong, surely. He had to be doing something wrong. Still… where was Nezumi? Nowhere in sight. Angrily, Shion forced himself to ignore the shame pounding in his throat. _This is fine,_ he told himself. _This is what he deserves for treating me the way he does._

Kawari took both of his hands and held them up to his eyes, staring at them like they were the most precious things he had ever seen. It was almost obscene the amount of feeling he displayed on his face. _“Look_ at you…” Kawari breathed. “Wow.”

Shion felt as if he were borrowing a stranger’s body. A far more beautiful stranger than himself to make Kawari look at him this way, like he was a piece of art. Shion felt like he was borrowing a personality, becoming the surrogate for some other, more interesting person; someone confident and in charge.

Kawari stepped close again, curling up against Shion and planting kiss after kiss along his neck. Shion gasped at the sensation, hands jolting up impulsively to tangle in Kawari’s hair. He seemed to take this as encouragement, and hummed with contentment, moving to kiss along Shion’s jaw, pulling their bodies flush against each other.

Shion’s jaw dropped, and his eyes fluttered closed as Kawari rolled their hips together. Shion had never felt anything like that before, and incredible guilt ran up his body again.

Kawari murmured in his ear, “Let’s go inside.” Without waiting for Shion’s answer, he grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

Shion’s chest clenched with anxiety as the door swung open and his eyes adjusted to the dim light. It took him a moment to comprehend what he was seeing as he gazed around the room at all the people. Then, his stomach dropped as it became all too apparent that he was watching dozens of couples, trios, and more having sex. He blushed furiously, trying to contain his shock and embarrassment.

Without another word, Kawari pulled Shion to a wall and put his own back against it, looking at Shion through half-lidded eyes, open and waiting.

Shion hesitated. He’d never expected this scenario, and he’d certainly never expected to be given control. He didn’t know what to do. With another crushing blow to his spirit, he realized Nezumi said he would take him here tomorrow, and his guilt intensified.

Apparently, Kawari grew tired of waiting, because he reached out and pulled Shion up against him, locking their lips tightly, and pulling their hips together _hard._ Shion gasped, and a high-pitched groan escaped his throat without his permission.

_Nezumi drugged me without my consent,_ he reminded himself, trying to stay his guilt. _Nezumi left me and never came back. Nezumi said he doesn’t love me. Nezumi gave us an ultimatum. Nezumi won’t tell me his name._

Anger and spite winning over his feelings of shame and disloyalty, Shion growled in a way he hadn’t known he was capable of, and gave as good as he got.

It felt good to make someone else moan and beg. To be the one who was reserved as Kawari gasped his name and clung tight. Feeling bold, Shion was the one to unzip both of their pants, and Shion was the one to slide his hand beneath the band of Kawari’s underwear, pretending like he knew what he was doing.

In the back of his mind, shame was eroding his rational thoughts like acid, making him want to cry. Yet, for the first time in his life, a stronger desire, revenge, overrode these feelings, making them nothing but a slight nuisance he could easily ignore.

_Nezumi’s done this with other people. I wouldn’t have been the first person he touched in this way, and I wouldn’t have been his last._

Kawari moaned loudly as Shion stroked him, finding it wasn’t so different from touching himself. Kawari reciprocated, wrapping his hand around both their cocks and increasing the speed.

The sensation broke Shion’s fragile emotional wall, sending him spiraling back into nauseating guilt, and he pressed his eyes, closed, into Kawari’s shoulder just so he wouldn’t have to face what he was doing.

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,_ he repeated in his head as his body reacted against his emotions.

Kawari gasped, the rolling of his hips becoming increasingly erratic as he drew near orgasm. _“Ah, ah, Shion… koko ni… sou shite… ha, ha, haa… ore no warui otoko wa… Shion… kirei satsujinhan… watashi wo koroshite! AH, Shion!”_ He babbled in Mao language, with Shion’s name cutting in occasionally. He gasped and moaned until Shion felt him come with a cry over both of their hands.

Shion felt sick, and bit his quivering lower lip as Kawari gasped through his aftershocks before smiling at Shion and switching their positions on the wall.

“Sorry I came so fast, it’s just that you turn me on so bad… Let me get you back.” He dropped to his knees in a position Nezumi had mocked him with yesterday.

He’d come this far, Shion didn’t see how he could just end it now. Besides, it’s not like he could just go back outside in the state he was in. Like it or not, his body was aroused and that wasn’t going to change left alone. Schooling his expressions in a way he’d seen Nezumi do countless times, Shion nodded.

It was like some switch had been turned on in his body, every muscle reacted. His shoulders rolled back, his hips thrust forward, his neck bent his face to the roof, and his hands clutched Kawari’s hair. “Oh my god!” He exclaimed, and Kawari hummed in appreciation. It was all he could do to keep from screaming with the most intensely good sensation he’d ever felt. His thinking mind turned off, and all he could understand was _right,_ and _warm,_ and _more._ Kawari forced Shion’s hips against the wall to keep him from moving as he performed what was clearly magic with his mouth. He bit his tongue to keep himself from calling out the name on his lips. That name didn’t belong here. This wasn’t real life.

An almost painful arousal grew in Shion’s stomach until he came unexpectedly with a shout, covering his eyes.

A moment later, Kawari wrapped his arms around him, and Shion held the boy in his arms, guilt and oxytocin vying for most prominent hormonal sensation.

Kawari purred and pulled off Shion’s shirt. With two fingers, he traced the scar that ran down Shion’s chest. “God, who marked you this way?” He mouthed the scar, kicked off the pants that were still around his ankles, and took off his own shirt. “You know, with your eyes and this scar, you look a lot like our devil. He killed our god’s offspring, a wasp egg that was implanted in his brain stem.” Kawari hummed thoughtfully. “If only you had white hair like him.” His voice faded out as he busied himself with kissing all the way down Shion’s scar until he was nearly prostrate on the floor, tongue flicking the base of the scar at Shion’s ankle. “That would be hot.” He stood and turned away, grabbing Shion’s hands and wrapping them around his waist so that Shion was holding him from behind. He grinded backwards against Shion’s groin. “Wanna fuck me, Mr. Devil?” He looked over his shoulder to kiss Shion deeply. “I want you to do something so bad to me that I have to cut my hair too.” He guided Shion’s hand to wrap around his dick, and he gasped. “I want you so badly… I’m so fucking hard for you. I’m ready, too. Just put it in me.”

Shion was numb. All he could think was how he had a mother, and so did this guy who was putting on such a display in front of him. He understood why Nezumi had said he couldn’t go inside that building. Maybe he really was a child.

No. He was there to prove he was an adult who could make his own decisions. He crushed his innocence and modesty under his heel, and practically attacked the shockingly submissive boy with every burgeoning instinct that took over his mind.

Kawari moaned wantonly as Shion pushed him to the floor. He turned on his back and spread his legs, eyes half lidded as he gave himself over to Shion. 

What kind of a person was Shion becoming? The guilt and humiliation that was momentarily under control only served to add to his high. He got off on it, wondering what Nezumi would say if he were watching them. _I’m not a child._ He told himself. _I’m not._

This was beyond a lack of innocence. This was corruption and something dark within his soul. This was years of repressed hurt and confusion, bursting out of him as anger which he poured into the willing stranger who’d treated him like an adult for the first time in his life. This was catharsis of every trauma, every horrible thing that filled his nightmares and left him shaking and nauseated at four in the morning, crying out Nezumi’s name because he needed somebody _worse_ than himself. He needed somebody to tell him these horrors were _nothing_ compared to what else existed in the world.

This was rapture. This was salvation. This was escape.

This was Shion’s buried nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not even a bonus story here. I'm gonna leave you with this bullshit. Merry christmas.


	8. Pulp fiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright- so I know I suck hard for the last chapter. BUT DON'T LEAVE. I'll make it up to you. I promise.

Shion woke up the next morning on the floor of the central building, head resting on Kawari’s chest. He sat up, and looked around himself. The place was a mess of things Shion didn’t want to name, and the floor was littered with sleeping, naked bodies. Flushing deeply, he realized he was one of them. His shirt was across the room and his pants were crumpled in the corner, looking like they’d given up.

A rush of confusion, shame, and indecision washed over him. Taking a few deep breaths, he wondered, _what would Nezumi do?_ He thought about it, and the answer came easily. Leave. No explanations, and don’t say goodbye. Quietly, he got dressed and slipped out the door into the chilly morning air.

He walked in the direction of Nezumi’s house, wondering if he was welcome anymore. It’s not like Nezumi knew what he had done, and it’s not like he had anywhere else to go… Thankfully, before he made it there, a female voice called out his name.

“Shion!” It was Kara. She bounded over to him, wearing nothing but her shoes and some shorts. “Where have you been?” She asked, grabbing him by the arms. A second later, her eyes lit up with mirth, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, no way… You’re marked! So _that’s_ where you and Nezumi have been!” She touched the side of his neck.

Shion paled. He hadn’t looked in a mirror or anything, nor had he found the opportunity to shower. It was probably incredibly obvious what he’d been doing. “N-no. He’s not with me.”

Kara looked confused. “What do you mean? He didn’t come home last night. Where is he?” She looked around like maybe Nezumi was crouching behind a bush.

Shion looked down at his shoes, regret sweeping over him. He didn’t know what to say. Actually, saying anything would probably make it worse.

A moment later, Kara seemed to figure it out, and she took a few steps away. “No way.” She sounded sad. “Are you serious?”

Shion wished people would stop asking him that. _No. This whole thing is a great joke. See me laughing?_

Her shoulders drooped. “I don’t know what to- Nezumi!” She screamed, eyes going round as she stared over Shion’s shoulder.

With a rush of sickening dread, Shion turned around, argument or explanation on the tip of his tongue where it died immediately at the sight in front of him, a noise of confusion twisting out of his throat instead.

“Don’t call me that,” a large man with a braided beard and unbraided hair complained in a shockingly gentle voice. “I’m just trying to get home from a rough night, guys, you don’t gotta be calling me names.” He was carrying a slack body over his shoulder. “This… one…?” The man avoided gender carefully, looking unsure. “Has had it worse though. Unconscious. I was just gonna give… them… a place on my couch or something.” He shrugged the shoulder with the body dangling over it, as if to make himself clear exactly which unconscious person he was talking about. The fabric of the pants the passed out person was wearing shifted, and a whole other kind of dread gripped Shion when he noticed the body had only one leg, and realized yeah, that was probably who Kara had been talking about.

“Nezumi!” Shion exclaimed, his voice wavering as he struggled to comprehend the horrible tableau.

The man blinked at them. “Oh, so that’s this one’s name? Is… they… yours?” He gestured between Shion and Kara with his free hand.

“Yes! He’s mine!” Kara ran forward, wringing her hands anxiously.

The man nodded, grabbing the pronoun gratefully. “Alright. Want me to carry him somewhere? You guys are small.” He shrugged the shoulder Nezumi was draped over, adjusting the limp body.

Kara accepted and thanked the man while Shion stood frozen, only remembering to move as the others began to walk away, leaving him behind.

His thoughts frayed. _Is he okay? Is he still alive? What happened? Oh god, I should have been with him. I should have apologized after we fought. What if fighting was the last thing we ever did together? What if he’s going to die and we never get to be okay again? I shouldn’t have gone with Kawari, I’m a terrible person. I don’t deserve someone like him. This is my fault. He’s dead and this is all my fault!_

His hands shook as he fought through panic, trying to reclaim rational thought. He was just unconscious. That’s what the man had said. The man in question carried Nezumi up the stairs of their building to their home. Shion didn’t breathe until the man arranged Nezumi on the bed, curled up on his side and obviously alive by the way his chest expanded with breath. Shion sighed with relief.

Kara stood, talking to the man, asking all the right questions that never would have crossed Shion’s mind. “How long has he been out? What did he take? How much? Who was with him?”

The man answered as best he could, but none of what was said registered in Shion’s mind. All he could do was stare at the unconscious body of the person he loved, and all he could think was how horrible he had been to him.

A moment later, the man left, and Kara knelt at Nezumi’s side. “Shion,” she said, not looking at him. “Get me a glass of water and the medicine in the purple bottle in the bathroom.”

Shion did as he was told, trying not to drop the glass with his shaking hands as he returned. Kara took the glass and the bottle, setting them on the ground next to the mattress. She still wasn’t looking at him. Shion felt it was the least he deserved.

She sighed, pressing her hand to Nezumi’s forehead. “You know what, get me towels and a bucket as well.”

Shion nodded, and ran to fetch. It felt good to be useful, since he really didn’t know what to do in a situation like this. When he came back, Kara was sitting with her head in her hands, shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe he did this…” Her voice trembled. “I can’t believe him.”

Shion stood stoically in the doorway, feeling entirely intrusive. He didn’t deserve to be here with them. He wasn’t Nezumi’s friend, he was his burden. Nezumi’s real friend sat there crying over his drugged, unconscious body.

“He’s always been so careful. Not like either of us. He was always the responsible one. We relied on him.” She coughed against the tears clogging her voice and stood shakily. “Watch him. I’m going to find Stroll. And his leg. And some answers. I won’t be back for a while… Don’t let him choke. Don’t you fucking let him die.” She pushed past Shion in the doorway, and before slamming the door called out, “If he dies, I’m blaming you.”

“Okay…” Shion whispered after she was gone. Dazedly, he sat at Nezumi’s side, and pushed his long hair out of his face. His forehead was covered in sweat. He was feverish. Shion ran to the kitchen and soaked one of the little towels in water, wrung it out, and came back to try to cool Nezumi off. Shion grabbed a hair band off the table next to him and awkwardly attempted to pull Nezumi’s loose hair into a messy knot in the back. Every few minutes, Nezumi twitched, and Shion switched to high alert, expecting him to wake. He didn’t.

For over an hour, Shion sat in silence, occasionally wiping sweat from Nezumi’s forehead and neck before anything happened.

Nezumi convulsed and coughed, his body was completely soaked in sweat. He coughed again, and vomited. Shion sat him up, sticking a pillow behind his back, and putting the bucket on his lap as he tried to keep Nezumi’s limp body upright. Nezumi’s eyes fluttered half way open and he moaned in discomfort before going pale and throwing up again.

Shion rubbed his back and tried to talk to him to keep him awake. “Hey, Nezumi, it’s me. Can you hear me?” His heart pounded in terror.

Nezumi groaned.

“Good. Listen to my voice. Stay with me, okay?” Shion’s entire body was trembling, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

Nezumi’s eyes closed.

“No! Nezumi, none of that. Open your eyes! Can you hear me? Open your eyes!” He slapped Nezumi on the back hard enough to make him cough, but it was worth it when his eyes half opened. “There you go, that’s good. Keep with me now, okay? I need you to sit up on your own. Can you do that? Sit up.” Shion’s voice broke on the command.

Nezumi just groaned at him again, posture still floppy.

“Don’t be so pathetic!” Shion yelled, tears springing to his eyes. “Do you want to live or not?”

A moment later, the muscles in Nezumi’s back tightened as he tried to support his own weight. He couldn’t, but Shion was relieved that he was making the effort.

Shion sobbed with joy and anxiety. “Good! Now talk. Nezumi!” Nezumi’s eyes fluttered shut again. “Stop it! Say something! Say my name!”

Nezumi shook his head weakly, violent tremor wracking his body.

“Say it!” Shion commanded.

“Sh-hi…” It was a slurred, but clear attempt to say it.

“That’s it! Almost there! It’s not a difficult name, you can do it,” Shion encouraged.

“Shion…” Nezumi slurred then blinked, seeming more alert.

Shion laughed and cried at the same time. “Good!” He shuddered with relief. “Good! Keep it up! Tell me what you took.”

Nezumi mumbled something incoherent, nodding with rapid sleep/wake cycles.

“What’s that?” Shion leaned in to listen closer.

“Sed it duzznt madder…” Nezumi tried to project, then moaned at the effort.

“Of course it does!” Shion growled at him. “You have to tell me!”

“Why?” Nezumi murmured. “You dunno the diff…rence…” His head drooped and his whole body spasmed.

Shion laughed, not only because it was true, but because Nezumi was still trying to fight him, even through his stupor. “Fair point,” he conceded.

“I feel sick…” Nezumi moaned, another convulsion running through his body. “Rr...really bad…”

“Yeah, I bet.” Shion rubbed his back. “You overdosed.” He grabbed the glass of water. “Here, I’m gonna have to make you drink lots of fluids. You’re dehydrated.” He held the glass as Nezumi quickly downed the whole thing. It was probably pointless, however, because he ended up tossing it all back up not a moment later.

“Why…” Nezumi whined. “Hurts…”

“Don’t do drugs,” Shion scolded, feeling concerned about but not sorry for Nezumi’s pain at all.

“You smell like herbs and alcohol,” Nezumi countered before seizing again.

“You smell like sweat and vomit,” Shion quipped back, trying not to panic about Nezumi’s strange tremors. “One of us is doing better than the other.” He smiled, happy at least about Nezumi’s subsiding slur.

They sat for several long moments as Nezumi struggled against his own body to be able to lean against the wall and support his own weight. His gaze was unfocused, but at least his eyes were open. “Not again,” he whispered. “Never again.”

“Good.” Shion stood, now that the primary issue was at bay, to deal with things like clean-up and fetching water. Slowly, he regained awareness of his side of last night. They were both going to have to explain some things to each other. He tried to busy himself as best he could, changing the sheets, and Nezumi’s clothes, bringing water and a box of crackers he found in a cabinet. Soon, however, he found himself with nothing more to do. Nezumi was sitting up in bed, gazing at him dolefully.

“Let’s make a deal.” His cloudy eyes set in close to their typical way.

Shion crossed his arms at him. “What’s that?”

“I don’t have to tell you about my night, and you don’t have to tell me about yours. We were both stupid. Forgive and forget.” His expression was emotionless, but Shion could tell he was pleading.

It only took a second for Shion to put two and two together. “You’re saying you already know what I did.”

“I’m giving you an out.” Nezumi intoned.

“No, you’re admitting that what you did was worse.” Shion narrowed his eyes at him, a little spark of pride igniting in his chest when he realized he really did know Nezumi well enough to figure out his intentions.

“I fucking hate you.” Nezumi groaned lethargically, muscles in his legs shaking violently.

Shion grinned broadly, trying to ignore the unhelpable symptom. “See? I _do_ know you.”

“I’m trying to be diplomatic here, Shion.” Nezumi blinked as he struggled to keep his eyes focussed.

“No, you’re avoiding the point and changing the subject.” Shion argued back, confidence building.

“You’re gonna have to admit what happened to you, otherwise.” Nezumi narrowed his eyes, but lost the expression almost immediately, as if even that small amount of effort was too much for his wrecked health.

“I slept with a stranger.” Shion shrugged, proud of how easily the words rolled off his tongue. “I was pissed at you and I regret it. Your turn.”

Nezumi’s jaw slackened. “I didn’t think you’d say it.”

“I know. I called your bluff.” Shion smiled softly. “I do know you.”

Nezumi was silent for a moment before he admitted, “Yeah. You do.”

Shion swelled with happiness, and sat down beside Nezumi on the bed. “And I know you well enough that no matter what you tell me, it’s not going to scare me off. I know you hate to believe it, but I do altruistically care for you.”

Nezumi gazed at him doubtfully.

Shion sighed. “Look, you’re an occasionally abusive asshole, and you always think you’re better than me. Straight from the beginning you harbored such prejudice against me because of the city I’m from that I swear it nearly gave you a heart attack.” He kissed Nezumi on the cheek. “But you showed me a side of the world I’d never seen before, and you taught me everything I know about actually being alive. It’s probably stupid of me, but I do really love you. Even if you don’t love me back.” He took Nezumi’s hand. “So tell me what happened, and I promise I won’t run away.”

Nezumi just frowned at his lap. “Why do you even want to know? It’s over, there’s nothing you can do.”

Shion would have hit him if he wasn’t worried it might kill him. “Because that’s what people do! They talk to each other! You tell me the little traumas that life puts you through, and I listen and help you get through it! That’s what friends do!”

Nezumi shook his head. “That’s not friendship. That’s weakness.”

“Weakness is the inability to say anything at all,” Shion corrected. “When you fight that battle with your own tongue and you lose. Besides, we’ve both done shameful things.”

Nezumi appeared to consider this, and after a long moment, he gave in. “Shame… I know shame…” He blinked and nodded through another moment of semi-consciousness before he continued. “I really think it’s just your freaky morbid curiosity that wants me to say all this, you know.” He swallowed roughly. “But you did just get me through yet another near-death experience, so I guess I owe you an explanation.”

Shion sighed internally, but accepted this.

Nezumi took a breath, building stamina to get through a whole story. “I ran off into the woods with some guys I know. They had a little fire going, and it felt better than being in the crowds, so I decided to camp with them. It was all pretty tame at first.” He shrugged, then winced at the sudden motion. “We did mushrooms, and it was pretty good for a while. You fucked one guy?” Nezumi raised a challenging eyebrow at him. “I fucked two and a girl. But then it got bad, trippy bad, and I must have blacked out at some point, because I woke up some time in the middle of the night with my leg gone and a needle in my arm, propped up against a tree with some dude fucking my mouth.” He hummed humorously. “And that wasn’t even my whole night. That was just the entree. You should have seen what we did for dessert. Wanna talk about shame, Shion? I have plenty to go around.” His lip trembled, and he wiped his eyes, looking annoyed at himself. “I deal in shame daily. So that’s my fucking story.” He choked on the last word, and his eyes closed briefly. When they opened, he looked exhausted.

Shion was stunned. He swallowed repeatedly around a lump in his throat that refused to go away. He tried to speak words of reassurance, but found his voice didn’t work.

“Got anythin’ to say d’me?” Nezumi’s slur was returning. “Where’s your reashh...urance, Shion? Did I take it too far?”

Shion shook his head. “No. That’s pretty bad, though.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know.” Nezumi laughed mirthlessly. “Thanks.. for… for th’ reminder.”

Shion took Nezumi’s hand, and helped Nezumi to lean against his shoulder. “I still love you,” Shion assured. “I don’t think any less of you. Thanks for telling me.”

Nezumi groaned. “Don’... need your therapy.”

Shion laughed, rubbing the back of Nezumi’s hand with his thumb. “But I’m a very good therapist. Even when you do stupid, shitty things, and even when you break my heart.”

“I’m not gonna say s-sorry t’you,” Nezumi grumbled.

“I wouldn’t ask that,” Shion replied. “Besides, you didn’t really wrong me I guess. My feelings were hurt, but I suppose that’s as much my fault as anybody’s, and I didn’t handle my anger well either.” Shion knew this was true, even though he still felt the pain of shame and betrayal in his chest. He smiled weakly, and squeezed Nezumi’s hand. “You’re gonna be okay,” he lied. “We’re gonna be okay.” His lies were getting better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an apology for these past two chapters, here’s a sweet story for the bonus:
> 
> The first time Shion opened his new eyes in that little room on the outskirts of West Block, Nezumi was stunned. At first, he thought it was just a trick of the light. He’d never seen eyes such a beautiful violet color. Even through Shion’s sickly stupor, they glinted with something Nezumi knew would be amazing. When they closed again- Shion hadn’t really been awake- Nezumi felt a sense of loss so startling he stood and left the room. He sat in the hallway, back against the door, biting his lip so hard he drew blood with the effort not to sigh. He failed, and collapsed as a deflated balloon, head between his knees.
> 
> Thoughts like that could not be allowed. Feelings like that were to be crushed at best, and ignored at worst. Those sorts of feelings weren’t welcome in the real world, and they certainly had no place being directed towards Shion. _Shion…_ He’d kept a careful eye on the boy for the past four years, something he’d never admit, and he was ashamed to realize he’d grown attached. It was stupid, he told himself. Just childish hero worship, a feeling of gratitude and debt gone a bit too far. That was all.
> 
> He remembered being fourteen, coming home from a bad day at work, and scanning through his footage gathered during the day. Something he’d seen had stuck with him in a profound way. It was a simple image, really. Nothing to analyze too deeply. It was Shion with his best friend- that girl, Safu- sitting together on a bench in the park. They were feeding stale bread crumbs (probably from his mother’s bakery) to a small flock of colorful birds that gathered at their feet. Nezumi had paused the image in wonder. Shion was laughing at something the girl had said, and the girl was leaning lightly against his shoulder, beaming with joy. He couldn’t say for how long he stared at the image, but after some time, he found himself crying. Hastily, embarrassed, he wiped the tears away and shut off the image. “Stupid, childhood crush,” he told himself firmly. “Get over yourself.” He clenched his jaw to stop the quivering as he got dressed for bed. Still, he couldn’t help the sense of longing he felt deep in his chest. _I want that,_ he thought to himself. _I want that with him._
> 
> Now sixteen, he thought he’d extinguished that desire. Yet, with Shion asleep in his bed, he only felt it stronger. It hurt to realize he could never let Shion know. Somewhere inside him he knew that small spark of want for the boy who had saved him all those years ago would never go away. But it was only that. A spark. Not a flame, not a fire. It could be hidden, and kept secret. It had to. Because someday, Shion would go back to that girl, and they’d have that joy together again. It’s what Shion deserved. Years of joy and love and togetherness with that girl who could make him laugh and smile and look the way he had in the picture from years ago.
> 
> Nezumi steeled himself as he stood to go back inside. “I’m here for Shion,” he informed the empty hall. “That’s all.” Love like that was something he could never have. Togetherness in that way was reserved for the very fortunate, or the very stupid. Nezumi was neither. He opened the door and sat back down at Shion’s bedside, unable to help himself from touching the back of his hand. “We’re getting even. Then I let you go.”


	9. When the scientists go marching in

They skipped the third night of Atsu’bi, and the fourth, spending two entire days resting and trying to heal shattered bodies and bruised egos. They barely spoke. After the issues had been briefly discussed the next morning, they both seemed to decide to pretend that everything was okay. Even the girls were tip-toeing around them, careful not to say anything that might upset the delicate balance they had struck.

As the fifth night approached, Shion assisted a still shaky Nezumi in getting ready. The research team would be arriving shortly. Shion’s sat phone had been hissing all morning as the eight scientists who had patiently camped the past four nights began to drive. It would be less than an hour. Shion and Nezumi intended to meet them at the edge of the forest and lead them back to their house in order to prepare them for immersion. It was a difficult walk to the forest. Nezumi was still weak on his feet. They arrived just as the motor of the van was becoming audible through the trees. It rolled to a halt in front of them and like a circus car, eight people spilled out with giant, excited grins. Each person carried a backpack stuffed to the brim with equipment, and every buckle and tie was secured around their waists.

“Shion, your hair!” Tori called out.

“Is this the guy? _The_ guy? He is a guy, right?” Jaime stared in wonder.

“Where have you been staying? What kind of structures do they dwell in?” Jen mused, taking a picture.

Shion and Nezumi wore identical overwhelmed expressions as the eight sniffed around them like dogs, fingering the fabric of their clothes, staring wide-eyed at Nezumi’s hair and taking a thousand pictures.

Raquel asked, “What language do they speak?”

Carl poked Shion’s stomach. “What have you been eating?”

Yuu grimaced. “Why do you both smell like that?”

Nezumi didn’t say a word in response to their questions. He didn’t speak at all, preferring to remain stone silent like they might forget he existed if he stood still enough. It didn’t work. When one team member was bold enough to lay her hand on Nezumi, she found herself pinned to the ground before she could even scream.

Nezumi glared at her. “Don’t touch me.”

“You speak our language!” she exclaimed, seeming to forget the way her arm was twisted behind her back painfully. “When did your tribe assimilate our culture? Was it before Babylon even, I wonder? Before the war? I wonder if we can track the evolution of our cultures post-segregation by comparing linguistic parallels and discrepancies? Do you think-“

Nezumi looked over his shoulder at Shion, bewildered. “She’s you. My god, she’s you.”

“Jen, please stop talking…” Shion looked away, embarrassed.

“Shion, we’ve stumbled on a goldmine of anthropological data!” Her eyes were round with excitement.

“These are people,” Shion asserted firmly. “They’re not data.”

Her smile faded instantly. “Oh. Right, of course. I didn’t mean to insinuate that--“

Nezumi let her go, standing back up gingerly, having exhausted himself already. “Just be calm. You’re here to blend, not to interview. Leave the car in the trees, I’ll take you back to my place.”

“This is so exciting!” One man whispered loudly to another. “We get to see the kinds of architecture they’ve developed.”

Nezumi froze, a clear debate happening on his face. Regardless of his exhaustion, however, it seemed he couldn’t prevent himself from fighting. He glared at the one who had spoken. “First of all, this is _not_ our native architecture. These are scavenged materials from when _you_ set fire to our homeland and to our _people._ Secondly, they’re called _houses._ Not ‘structures,’ and not ‘dwellings.’ This culture is just as modern as yours and a hell of a lot more enlightened by the looks of it. So, if you’ll kindly shut your stupid mouth, I won’t feel obligated to have it wired shut for you.”

All eight looked shocked. Shion smiled, feeling unduly proud.

Nezumi continued. “And before you ask, yes, we have technology. We have plumbing. We have clean water, and agriculture, and government. And we’re _still_ worse off than before you people came and destroyed our land, which was _before_ we were ‘modern’ by your standards. Yet, we have it a lot better than the people just outside your city did before the fall, and you _knew_ about them and did _nothing._ So before you walk in like heroes helping some poor, underdeveloped people, I want to make it very clear that all you’re doing is visiting another city. A city that still bears the scars from when _your_ city brutally raped us. So be fucking grateful I don’t jack your van and ditch you in the middle of the forest just for karma’s sake. By the way, _I_ blew up your government building and tore down your walls. Personally. So fall in line. Are we clear?”

The eight were silent and pale, but they nodded slowly.

Nezumi smirked with satisfaction, looking victorious, but Shion could tell his energy was sapped. “I’m glad,” Nezumi said, voice a little weak. “Follow me.” He turned on his heel and began the walk back to his house, all eight and Shion following silently like baby ducks.

Nobody said another word until they were all standing in an awkward circle in the middle of the main room of Nezumi’s house, backpacks resting at their feet.

“You can stay _one night._ You leave tomorrow morning.” Nezumi informed. “You can camp on my floor here, and because I’m a gracious host, I’ll even prepare you for what you’re about to experience.” He collapsed on the couch, and patted the seat next to him, ushering Shion over.

Shion sat primly, feeling like President Nezumi’s First Lady.

Kara and Stroll chose that moment to walk in, wearing nothing but sweatpants. Kara had a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth.

All eight averted their eyes instantly, awkwardly trying to seem like they were fascinated by the floor, or the ceiling, or the kitchen. Anything not to stare at the minimally clothed women who were ogling them.

“What’s this, United Nations?” Stroll stared at them all, hands on her hips. “Where in holy hell do you find all these fricking _gaijin?”_

Kara dropped her toothbrush in the kitchen sink, and marched in front of them all, inspecting them like troops. “Are they all from different countries, or…? They’re pretty diverse looking.”

“They’re all from No. 6, so different ethnic heritages, yeah.” Nezumi explained sheepishly.

Stroll gasped. “God _damn it,_ Nezumi! You can’t keep adopting terrorists!” She scolded him. “What is your deal with that city? This isn’t an embassy, it’s my house!”

“People from No. 6 aren’t terrorists,” Jen piped up, managing to take her eyes away from their intense focus on the ceiling.

Kara, Stroll, Nezumi, and Shion stared at her dully until she blushed and looked away again, this time seemingly enthralled with the wooden floor.

“I’m taking them to Atsu’bi tonight,” Nezumi told the girls. “Because otherwise they’re not gonna leave.”

“That is the stupidest fucking logic I’ve ever heard. Shame on you.” Stroll sat on the arm of the couch next to him and flicked his head. “Unless your goal is kill them all with alcohol poisoning, I have no earthly idea what it is you think you’re trying to do.”

“We can hear you,” one of the guys spoke out.

“Carl, shut the fuck up.” Shion sighed, leaning into his hands.

Stroll laughed. “See, I’m just now growing on _shirokami,_ and you go ahead and bring in about a dozen more.” She shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. _“Gaijin_ bring _gaijin._ You’re multiplying.”

Nezumi scowled. “Did you just call me a fucking foreigner?”

“Hontou no Mao janaiyo! No. 6 no nishi burokku de umareta kara no!” She bared her teeth.

“I wasn’t born anywhere _near_ West Block!” he countered, standing up. “I was born in the Mao fucking forest with the rest of my entire Mao fucking family! How _dare_ you call me one of them!”

_“No. 6 no tomodachi to issho ni kita yo! Nezumi no ato de Shion wa saigo no kita gaijin to omotta kedo, mou go nin, iya, mou hachi nin kite iru! Nezumi wa nani o shite iru no?”_

“These are not my friends. Shion was the first -and last- No.6 _jin_ to be welcome here. Got that? The _first._ I’m _not_ from that fucking city, and these people aren’t staying!” He was still a little unsteady on his feet, and Shion grasped his hand and pulled him back down to sit.

“It’s okay. Calm down. You need to rest.” He was worried about taking Nezumi back out tonight already, but with all this extra stress and the responsibility of eight people that pretty much needed to be corralled like children, he was getting seriously concerned.

Nezumi sat, clearly exhausted, but continued fighting. “It’s not okay. This is going to work because it has to, understand? These people are going to gather their data and keep quiet because I’m _making_ them. So it’s going to work.” He cleared his throat and turned back to the ring of uncomfortable looking scientists. “You’re going to do what you have to, and then you’re going to leave quietly. If I ever hear from you again, I won’t be so nice.”

They nodded sullenly.

“Good.” He leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes.

Shion frowned at the rings of exhaustion he saw bruised beneath them. His cheeks looked hollow, too. He hadn’t eaten much of anything in the past couple days, and what he could force and keep down wasn’t exactly healthy. Shion nodded encouragingly to himself and stood up, taking charge. “Unpack your bags here on the floor. I want to be able to see everything spread out. You don’t bring any gear when we leave tonight. You’ll observe with your eyes only, and if I hear one whisper of where we’re from, or what you’re here for, you’re all eight getting back on the van without coming back for your things.” He frowned as severely as he could manage.

The eight stared at him in shock.

“That’s right.” Shion squared his shoulders. “I’m holding all your cameras and equipment hostage until you’re safely back on the van. So if anyone fucks up, you lose all the data we’ve collected thus far.”

Carl gasped in protest.

Nezumi chuckled lightly. “Look who’s not a virgin anymore…” He tried to laugh again, but it was cut off by a fit of hacking coughs.

The scientists all looked like they wanted to argue, but the identical glares from the four by the couch halted their tongues.

“Are we clear?” Shion folded his arms.

They nodded.

“Good. Let’s get dressed.” He walked briefly to Nezumi’s room to collect the Mao clothing they’d managed to scrape together. It was barely enough to clothe them all, and a few were going to have to sacrifice shirts.

They looked mortified.

“That’s so… that’s so humiliating!” Jen protested, wrapping her arms around her waist as if she already felt naked at the thought.

“Is it, _gaijin?”_ Stroll walked up to her, puffing up her own bare chest and looking intimidating.

“N-no…” Jen squeaked.

Stroll laughed, patting her on the cheek. “It’s alright, I know you’re all weirdly conservative. We’re not gonna make the girls go topless anyway.” She reached out and grabbed Jen’s breast, making her squeal. “You guys are too perfectly round from being all wrapped up in bras all day long. You’d stand out.” Stroll grinned and backed away, leaving Jen blushing furiously. She turned back to Nezumi, smile fading. “You’d better know what you’re doing, and keep an eye on your pets.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, whatever happens, tonight will be an interesting night.”

Shion agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright- SO I am very high, and this is the story I came up with. It’s probably fine, but that’s just a warning for when I wake up tomorrow and go, wtf did I write?? SO BUNUS STORY!!
> 
> Nezumi, before he was Nezumi, sat in the dark room, inhaling the scent of books until he was calm. His grandmother was crouched by the fire, subtly adjusting twigs and blowing life back into the weakening flames.
> 
> “Sobo, I’m cold,” The child complained. He was wrapped in a thick superfiber cloth that almost swallowed his tiny body whole, but it didn’t help much. He was shivering and hungry.
> 
> “Shush, Mago. I’m trying.” She spoke to him in a calming tone as she stoked the flames. “Mao boys are strong.”
> 
> “Those men were stronger,” Mago grouched. “Why would they take off my clothes? They won’t fit in them.” He hummed to himself, still anxious about the whole affair. “Do I look like a girl?” He fiddled with the hem of the cloth. “I know that word in their common tongue. _Onnanoko. Onnanoko to mitai._ It means I look like a girl. I read a book.”
> 
> Sobo turned to frown at him seriously. “What for would you learn their language, little one? They will only use it to slander you. They will call you out and treat you like less of a human because of your hair and skin. Not one of them is kind. Always remember that.”
> 
> Mago nodded solemnly. “I know. Trust none but family.” He sniffed. “My family is dead.”
> 
> “Mao will rise again. Someday, we will go searching through the land to find our sister tribe. The two of us. Once No. 6 is destroyed, our people will stand strong. For now, I am your family. You must trust none but me.”
> 
> “No. 6 is evil. And we are good. So, we take No. 6. Right?” He looked up, waiting for praise. He adored his grandmother.
> 
> “That’s right. No. 6 took everything from us. They killed your family, and they burned your land, and they burned you.” She nodded and patted his head. “Braid your hair and wash your face. I’m going to cook us soup for dinner.”
> 
> He nodded, and bounced off to comply. As he scrubbed his face, he sang to himself. 
> 
> “I live in the treetops, I sing to the wind.   
> Someday I will fall and meet my human end.   
> I’ll turn into a tree and grow up to the sky  
> To shelter all those still alive.”
> 
>  
> 
> ////// His name is not Mago, btw. That means grandson. Calling him that was a way of avoiding using the Name Nezumi, which he hadn't been given yet.


	10. The thin gray line

Getting the scientists ready for the fifth night of Atsu’bi was a task. They had to be coerced to unpack their bags, change their clothes, and even braid their hair. They complained every step of the way and struggled like two-year-olds even after agreeing. When they somehow managed to get dressed by evening, Shion thought it could be a miracle. All twelve flooded out the door and into the darkening streets to join the masses.

All the scientists were wide-eyed, staring at everything around them like they’d never seen a city before. Shion sighed, realizing he most definitely used to look like that. No wonder Nezumi made fun of him. On the way to the center of town, several Mao people walked over to run their hands through the male scientists’s short hair.

“Wow… Atsu’bi has been rough on these guys, huh?” one drunken man commented. _“Kotoshi kami ga mijikai hito wa ooi…_ Wonder what they did that they had to cut it.”

A now familiar crash of drums set the scientists chattering. The group picked up their pace and joined the crowd as the singing began. This time, one woman was standing on stage, stark naked, singing in an inhumanly haunting voice. Behind her was a pedestal with a woven grass basket, containing something Shion couldn’t see. As the crowds grew, however, so did his suspicion of what it might be. Everyone was staring at the singer intently, their collective focus intimidating the eight scientists who stood with wide eyes and muted voices, unsure of what to do.

With a collective gasp from the crowd, Shion’s suspicions of what was in the basket were confirmed. The singer lifted the basket above her head, displaying an animal’s brain decked in flowers and waiting as an offering to the god Shion knew only too well. Bonfires erupted behind her, turning the sky red. Shion’s heart hammered, not knowing what to expect. The crowd inhaled and sang.

_“Kaze wa tamashii yo sarai  
Hito wa kokoro wo ubau”_

Shion shuddered with painful familiarity, but a welcome sense of belonging filled him as well when he realized he could sing along.

_“Daichi yo amekaze yo ten yo hikari yo”_

The chorus of voices lifted the sky, clearing the clouds and betraying each star’s location. Nezumi glanced sideways at Shion, and they smiled at each other as they both sang.

_“Koko ni subete wo todomete_  
Koko ni subete wo todome  
Koko de ikite” 

With another great crash of drums, two children dressed in iridescent silk ran on stage from either side, each carrying a white box with a lid. Shion’s eyebrows drew together with mild concern, but he figured his nagging fears were unfounded, and he pushed them away.

_“Tamashii yo, kokoro yo, ai yo, omoi yo_  
Koko ni kaeri  
Koko ni todomatte” 

The children opened the boxes with a flourish, and a great swarm of wasps lifted into the air. Shion gasped in sudden fear, panic gripping his body and shaking him down to his toes. He had been right. Thousands of wasps took to the air, humming viciously. As the ceremonial flames licked the red sky, the swarm advanced silhouetted as dive-bombing drones bent on destruction. 

The woman on the stage presented the woven basket to the sky, and the music swelled as the people continued to sing.

_“Kaze wa tamashii o sarai  
Hito wa kokoro wo ubau”_

With horror, Shion found his throat was closed and he couldn’t breathe. He shut his eyes and tried not to hear the buzzing of wings that carried even over the reverberating music.

_“Sore demo_  
Koko ni todomari  
Utaisuzukeru  
Douka  
Watashi no uta wo todokete  
Douka  
Watashi no uta wo uketotte” 

Shion’s breathing was unsteady. What was wrong with him? With a sudden jolt of terrifying and familiar pain in the back of his neck, he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a scream. _All these people will die!_ he thought wildly. _I’m going to be eaten again!_

He felt arms around his waist a moment later, and someone was shaking him.

“Shion? Shion?”

A voice was calling his name, but Shion couldn’t think to respond. His heart felt like it might burst from the erratic beating against his ribcage. Was he dying? Was this happening again? He felt the flurry of rapidly beating insect wings surrounding him, and he almost passed out. Luckily, someone caught him and steadied him on his feet.

“Shion!”

His name was called again, but he couldn’t respond. He could _feel_ the creatures crawling under his skin, ready to eat him alive. Any second, he knew, he would see his hands blacken and age, and he would fall right here with everyone watching. He _knew,_ and in that moment he mourned the loss of his life.

He was wrapped in a tight embrace, and suddenly he was sobbing openly, wrapped around an unidentified warm body. He didn’t care. If he was going to die, he didn’t have to accept it peacefully. He was going to scream until he couldn’t scream anymore. His fists pounded into the back of whoever was stupid enough to hold him through this. If he was going to die, he wanted to _bruise_ whoever was in his path because why was this happening to him again? It wasn’t fair!

“It’s okay, you’re okay!”

_Liar!_ He wasn’t okay, who would _dare_ lie to him in a moment like this? Who would dare treat him like a child and patronize him with such platitudes? Who would _dare?_

Moments passed, and nothing happened. Shaking violently, Shion was slowly made aware of his surroundings. Nezumi was holding him upright, whispering calmingly as Shion tried to understand what was going on. He was still alive. Everything was normal. People were dancing and paying them no attention.

“Nezumi…?” he asked weakly, trying to stand on his own. He felt as if he were plummeting down the side of a cliff, nearing fatal impact. He was hyperventilating.

“Nothing happened,” Nezumi assured. His expression was calm, but his face was pale. “It’s not what you think.” He looked down, laughing humorlessly. “I can’t believe… You got stung. We all do.” He showed Shion the red welt on his arm, and he reached to touch the back of Shion’s neck. “The fact that it was here is just a morbid coincidence.”

“Huh…?” Shion still wasn’t quite sure what was happening.

Nezumi shrugged. “It’s just a panic attack. They happen to the best of us. So calm down. You’re fine.”

Gradually, Shion did manage to calm down. “I thought…”

“I know. Don’t think about it anymore.” He glanced around. Shion did too. All the scientists were scattered, attending the party like they hadn’t even noticed what had happened.

“I feel sick…” Shion groaned, holding his head in his hands. He was dizzy.

Nezumi nodded. “I’m not at my finest either. Let’s go find a corner or something.”

Shion agreed gratefully and allowed himself to be led away.

The forest was dark and silent. There was a corner where graffitied cement met graffitied cement, and flattened cardboard papered the ground. Ripped rolling paper, rusty needles, and broken glass set the atmosphere, and soft music continued to reach their ears where they sat together.

Saying nothing, but leaning lightly against each other, Nezumi and Shion allowed their minds to fall into a zoned out stupor, both staring dazedly at the world around them. With the energy he still possessed, Shion kept watch on the eight scientists who pretended to dance as they stared at people and tried not to look embarrassed at the much more open culture of the Mountain People.

It was getting late, and the sky was black by the time Shion drifted off to sleep on Nezumi’s shoulder, with Nezumi’s cheek resting on the top of Shion’s head. Who knows how much time had passed before the two were woken with a start and an uneasy feeling in their guts. It took Shion a moment to realize why. The music had stopped. Every person in the crowd was facing the stage silently. Quickly, Nezumi leapt up and darted through the people to the front. Shion attempted to follow and wound up bumping into everyone along the way.

When he arrived at the front of the crowd, his jaw dropped in horror. One of the scientists, Jaime, was standing on the stage with his arms spread, addressing the people.

He spoke slowly, as if he wasn’t sure they were fluent in his language. “Forest People!” Bad start already, Shion cringed. “Listen to me! The walls of No. 6 are down. They have fallen! The government has been replaced, and it’s safe to re-integrate!” He strode to the edge of the stage. “I’m here on behalf of the City of No. 6, and I want to create discourse between your society and ours!” He scanned the crowd and pointed out Shion. “He’s the one you should talk to. He’s the one who organized this entire mission! Shion! Come talk to them!”

Shion paled, and he could have sworn he felt the night air vibrate around him as thousands of heads turned to face him at once. When Shion looked to Nezumi for support, he had disappeared. Shion was alone with a thousand faces and one scientist’s finger pointing his way. He swallowed roughly, scanning the crowd for any sort of help. None presented itself.

“Murderers!” called a voice in the crowd, initiating a huge bellow that issued forth from the people, an angry scream made of particles like, “Terrorists! Evil! Genocidal maniacs!” and more.

Sickening terror filled Shion’s gut, and he was lifted into the air by a thousand angry hands. Swarming fists collided with his body on all sides, and for the second time that night, Shion realized he was about to die.

He choked with fear and sorrow each time he heard a voice call out, “Another one!” and through a haze of tears and swollen eyelids, he saw a mass of people form around another screaming scientist.

Pain seemed to issue from every nerve in his body, and without a thing he could do to help, Shion resigned himself to passively waiting for death. He was sure he’d reached that point when a loud wailing pierced his eardrums and shattered the air. For a blessed moment, the barrage of fists stopped.

“Bring them to me alive,” a booming voice demanded, echoing from all directions. “All nine.”

There were whispers, then suddenly Shion was moving again, carried on the shoulders of the crowd. 

One last massive blow wracked his body, and he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYYYY drama.
> 
> The bonus this time is about little Nezumi again because I love it.
> 
> BONUS!
> 
> Mago’s favorite part of every morning was bath time. His grandmother would sing to him in her crackly old voice as she washed his hair and parted it into six separate rows to braid. He loved the way his hair felt, wet and braided, as he sat in front of their camp fire to let it dry. His grandmother would give him a bowl of broth made of bones they had boiled from whatever animal they’d eaten the night before, and it sat warm and good in his stomach.
> 
> As an old woman, his grandmother’s hair was braided in one long plait down the back. Mago liked to help her with it, even though his hands were still clumsy and little. She was teaching him to hunt. He knew how to set rabbit traps, and one time he’d even caught a bird, but getting bigger animals was a task. Over the past few months, his grandmother had been helping him to fashion a crossbow, and had taught him how to use it. He shot at targets around the woods, getting better every day. Today, however, he was going to use it to hunt for the first time. Knife in his pocket, crossbow over his shoulder, Mago set about climbing a tree. That was the Mao way, his grandmother had said. Wolves and cats may stalk the floor, but us true hunters belong in the sky.
> 
> Climbing trees was second nature. He knew how to bind his feet for the tall straight ones, and he knew how to curl his toes on the rough, bent ones. He shimmied up the tree like a squirrel, and sat to wait.
> 
> When he spotted his first deer, it took three tries to hit it. He only had five arrows, so that was lucky. To his surprise, the deer bolted when it was hit, kicking up leaves and branches as it ran away. He hadn’t expected that. He’d always sort of thought that when you shot a deer it just… fell over and became meat. Instead, it bleated with pain and ran off into the forest.
> 
> Mago climbed out of the tree as fast as he could, looking around for his grandmother. She wasn’t there. Fearful of coming home empty handed, he listened carefully for the direction the deer was going. Maybe he could shoot it again. He collected the fallen arrows, and took off in the direction of the scuffle. For ten minutes he walked as the sounds of the wounded animal became softer until they disappeared entirely. Mago sat on the ground, crying with frustration.
> 
> That’s when he noticed the blood. With a burst of inspiration, Mago shot back up to his feet, scanning the ground for broken branches and bloodstains. Grinning proudly to himself, he set back off after the deer.
> 
> He found it lying on a bed of grass in a meadow, panting heavily. Mago gulped. He knew what to do, but he felt sick about it. Shakily, he took the knife from his pocket and approached the deer. It cried, but it wasn’t able to move.
> 
> He shut his eyes as he reached out to slit its throat. He’d done it to rabbits before, so he knew the technique, but… This creature was so much bigger than him. It didn’t feel right. Still, he was hungry and this could feed them for a very long time. He said a short prayer for the deer to make himself feel better, and did what was necessary.
> 
> He jumped as he heard a crunch in the woods behind him. His grandmother stepped out from behind a tree, smiling. “That was very good. You’re a natural.”
> 
> Mago was upset. “You were there the whole time?! You could have done that for me! You could have told me where to find the deer!” He stomped his foot in annoyance, angry tears coming to his eyes. “You could have helped! Don’t test me!”
> 
> She approached him and knelt before him. “It wasn’t a test, Mago. It was learning. Do you think you learn by instruction? No. Words can only do so much. When you feel life in your hands, that’s when you learn. So, what for should I do this instead of you? To shelter you? This world is harsh and unforgiving. As such, to shelter a child is an unforgivable act.” She stood and went to bind the deer’s legs. “You’re a hunter now. And because you kill, you live. Life is a game, Mago.” She smiled over her shoulder at him. “And survivors are the victors. Never forget that.”


	11. Guilt, panic, and heartbreak

The blissful oblivion of unconsciousness was rudely interrupted by the prickling of pain in Shion’s head, then his hands, then his chest and his stomach until he ached all over and even breathing was a painful struggle. He breathed in, choked on fluid, and coughed violently. The obstruction wasn’t cleared. He was on his back, unable to turn over as he choked and coughed and panic gripped him yet again. Thankfully, someone rolled him on his side, ending the cycle of fluid aspiration, yet sending sharp signals of pain blossoming through Shion’s whole body as he was handled so roughly.

“Nezumi…” He groaned.

A voice laughed lightly. “Try again.”

Shion had no clue. “Who…?”

The person stroked his hair. “Kawari. Hi, again. I got worried when you weren’t at the party for a couple days. Maybe it would have been better if you’d stayed away.”

Shion groaned. Were panic and guilt the only two emotions he was capable of feeling anymore? “Kawari…”

Kawari sighed. “You’ve been out for quite a while. I’ll be honest, I only showed up about half an hour ago. Oh, it’s tomorrow, by the way. Or, today or whatever. You slept through the night.”

Shion groaned, keeping his eyes closed. He wasn’t ready to face the mess that would certainly be waiting for him. “Where’s everyone else?”

“The other scientists?” Kawari asked. “Oh, well… Most of them are fine. We brought them all here- we’re in the city council building. One of them, a guy, isn’t looking so good. The one from the stage. He’s alive, just… I don’t know for how long.”

Shion felt responsible. “This is all my fault,” he whispered. His tongue felt thick.

Kawari didn’t respond for a long time. “Hey- Um… I don’t really know how your people work in terms of… I guess color, but… Don’t freak out, but your hair is kinda white. Like, really really bright freaking white. And I think it’s majorly attractive, let me tell you, but... The doctor was trying to wash off all the, you know blood, and it’s like your hair color just… went away. Freaked everyone the hell out.”

Shion laughed, then regretted it when he felt his ribs crunch and the pain almost made him black out again. “That’s normal,” he gasped out, breathing unsteady.

Kawari breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god… It’s pretty freaky looking. You really do look like the devil now.”

“Where’s Nezumi?” Shion asked, careful to keep completely still.

Kawari hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Shion wanted to cry. “They should have killed us all. You still should. We have no right to be here.”

There was another long pause from Kawari. “That’s a matter of opinion. The city’s fairly divided. This is an extremely polarizing issue. Roughly half the population is in favor of reintegration, or at least opening communication with your people. The other half wants war. You know, there’s still a lot of prejudice against that city from back when… well, you know.”

Guilt and panic. That was Shion’s life. “You have every right to hate us. What we did to you was unforgivable. I’m not surprised they tried to kill us.”

Kawari hummed thoughtfully. “It’s not your fault, though, Shion. And about half the people understand that. Myself included. The founders of No. 6 committed horrible atrocities, but since your revolution, they’re gone and a new city is in it’s place. No. 6.2, as it were… You did that. And I think we should give it a chance.”

Restraining a sob shifted the delicate balance of Shion’s broken ribs again, and he passed out in a haze of pain.

Unknown time later, he was numb. He couldn’t move his hands or feet. Shion blinked his eyes open, confused. An angry face stared down at him.

“You’re going home.”

“Huh…?” Shion wasn’t sure what was happening or who he was looking at. All he could see was a disjointed mouth, nose, and beautiful gray eyes…

_“Home,”_ the voice emphasized. “You and your whole team. I packed your things. I want you gone.”

Shion’s eyes blurred, obscuring the face even further, but he knew who he was talking to. “Nezumi, please…”

“Get fucked, Shion!” Nezumi shouted. “Go home and put those walls back up, because we’re coming. No. 6 is No. 6, nothing’s changed. This is on you. I never want to see you again.”

Guilt, panic, and heartbreak. “You’re kicking me out?” he squeaked.

“That’s what I said. Once you leave, you’re never coming back. I want you gone,” he spit the words like fire, and it burned.

“You can’t make me!” Shion cried, desperate.

“Wanna bet?” Nezumi stormed out the door.

Guilt, panic, and heartbreak. Shion struggled to find his hands and push himself into a sitting position. “Nezumi!” Useless. He was gone. It took nearly ten minutes of struggling for Shion to shake the effects of the drugs and gingerly stand up. He shook his arms, which were bruised and full of stitches. He didn’t remember being cut, but the long, angry gash that ran from his shoulder to his forearm told no lies. He gasped to breathe, eyes filling with tears as he fought asphyxiation. Thankfully, his legs seemed to be fine, and he walked slowly out the door Nezumi had disappeared through to find two more beds holding two more scientists. They were asleep, and he ignored them. It seemed that each door he went through just lead to another room of injury and just as Shion began to wonder if it was infinite, the bright lights and cool air of outside hit his face.

“Shion!” Kawari ran up and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Go back inside!”

“No!” Shion cried. “I have to fix this! This is all my fault!”

“It’s not! It’s the assholes who did this to you. You have to stop blaming yourself!” He tried to steer Shion inside again, but was met with resistance.

“I have to find Nezumi,” he groaned, stepping forward.

“You need to let him go. He’s not good for you. He’s a fucking demagogue and a terrorist, and he’s been inciting anger since two days ago!”

“T-two days?” Shion muttered.

“You passed out again. It’s not healthy.” Kawari rubbed his back.

“He’s right, I have to fix this. This is my fault!” Shion shook his head, ignoring the shock of how long he’d been out.

“You need to rest! And you need to stop listening to his bullshit. How old were you during the massacres? Three? Four? And what have you done since then? You lead the revolution! You’ve got to stop blaming yourself. It’s not good for you!” Kawari forcibly turned him around to face the door. “I heard the whole story. Nezumi’s been shouting from the stage, getting people all riled up.”

“If he makes me leave, he says I can’t come back! I’ll never be able to see him again!” Shion sobbed. “I have to change his mind!”

Kawari was silent for a long moment. “Why the hell are you with this guy?” he asked incredulously. “You’re smarter than that, come on! You’re not changing his mind. He’s leading the pro-war screaming crowds. He wants your city destroyed in a kind of psychotic obsessive way. From what it sounds like, he always did. He’s not a good guy. You need to give up on him.”

“I can’t!” Shion broke down. “I can’t! He’s not bad, he’s not! We can fix this! There has to be another way. There’s always another way!”

“Shion!” Kawari shouted, grabbing the sides of his face and forcing eye contact. “He’s fighting against immigration even when he himself is an immigrant. He wants to lead the genocide of your people in revenge for the genocide of his people. What the possible fuck are you doing with him?”

Shion ignored Kawari’s logic, shoving forward towards the streets. He only managed to make it about ten steps before the world tunneled, and he was on the floor, losing consciousness. Again. He struggled against his fogging thoughts, terrified that when he woke up, it would be too late. Everything would be too far gone. Even one more day could mean the difference between war and peace. He fought, struggling through disorientation, vertigo, and nausea until his overworked and probably concussed brain spun into oblivion yet again.

The next time he woke up, Shion was terrified to open his eyes. He was in bed, he noticed. Next, he noticed he wasn’t numb. Yet, the pain in his body was minimal, or at least manageable. Slowly, he became aware of the bandages encompassing his chest and arms, and the splints on several of his fingers. In a moment, he re-established his hearing, and the shuffle of feet and many voices became clear.

“Why should we be treating them? They don’t belong here! Send them home to their fancy hospitals and medications. We don’t owe them anything!”

“We nearly killed them! Treating these injuries is the least we can do! What kind of people would we be?”

“Justified people! They’re the cause of our oppression!”

“These are the diplomats of the new government! No. 6 revolted! They’re new and better!”

“No. 6 killed my parents!”

“And you nearly killed their children!”

“Children of disgusting privilege!”

“But children nonetheless! One of these girls is seventeen! She wasn’t even born during the war.”

Shion woke fully, sitting up.

“Is that a child?! That’s an adult who’s seen the development of his city.” Someone was pointing at Shion.

“That’s the devil!” Someone else shouted. “Why can’t you all see that? See his hair? See his scar and his eyes? He’s here to destroy us all!”

Suddenly, a hand was on Shion’s shoulder. It was Kawari. “This man was the cause of the fall! He is the one who destroyed the parasitic city and freed the people both inside and outside the wall from its oppression! He was born outside the wall. He was a victim of oppression too!”

“No he wasn’t!” another voice shouted. Nezumi stepped forward. “He was from inside. He was born inside as the walls were being established, and he’s lived exactly three months of his life on the exterior. Shion, what have you been telling them?”

“He’s from West Block!” Kawari fought back.

_“I’m_ from West Block.” Nezumi scowled. “He’s from Chronos!”

Kawari looked startled, glancing back and forth between Shion and Nezumi. “Liar!” he decided, glaring at Nezumi.

“No.” Shion stood. “He’s telling the truth.” The crowds grew silent, looking at him. “I was raised in Chronos, No. 6 until I was twelve years old. I was banished, and stripped of my privileges for helping him.” Shion pointed. “I’ve lived in Lost Town ever since, on the inside of the wall. However, when I was sixteen, I spent three months on the outside in West Block, a refugee of the city, running from fictionalized charges of murder, living with him.” He pointed again. “During that time, the two of us broke into the correctional facility and blew it up. The walls fell, and the leaders of the old city were killed by our hands, or their own.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep the sleep and exhaustion out of his voice. “I’ve rebuilt the city with my own two hands, all the while he’s been running away.” Shion looked at Nezumi, forcing himself to make eye contact as he tried to be strong. “I built the new city, named No. 6 to remember the terrible mistakes and tragedies of the old. We will never forget, and we will never be clean. 

“I can’t apologize,” Shion continued, looking at the crowd. “Because the crimes of the old city which raised me are too great, and the tragedies are too terrible. But I can open my arms, and I can open our borders, and I can offer to share everything we have with you. It won't be perfect, and it certainly won’t be enough to resolve us of blame, but I hope you can accept the gesture of friendship and unity.”

The crowd was silent. Nezumi stepped forward.

“It’s not perfect. Not even close.” He addressed the crowd. “I know that city. I know it’s people. There’s one thing I can assure you will happen if we integrate, and that’s loss of culture. No. 6 eats everything it acquires, and before you know it, our people won’t be our people, but theirs. Our traditions will be lost, our language will be forgotten, and everything that makes us who we are will be erased and assimilated. That’s how it will work. That’s how it always works.”

Shion scowled. “Look, it’s not like I’m forcing you to immigrate to No. 6!” He spoke right to Nezumi. “You can stay, or you can go, that’s your call! All I’m saying is that we’re open to you, and you can come if you want. I can’t promise that those who emigrate here will retain this culture in generations to come, because cultural exchange and assimilation is normal and inevitable. But that’s the decision of each migrant individual. We’re open. Come if you want. That’s all.”

“We’re so few already because of them! If half of us go, we’ll die out! No. 6 is a honey trap, and abandoning our forests and our mountains means we’ll never get them back,” Nezumi argued.

Shion shrugged. “Again, that’s your call.” He stood, and was instantly surrounded by a wall of people, guarding him from the rest. He was mildly surprised, but thankful. “I’m going home, and my people are coming with me. This is a decision for the Mao people to make alone.” As he walked, so did his human shield.

“If you leave, you’ll never see me again, Shion!” Nezumi called after him.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” Shion spat back bitterly, feeling his heart crumble to pieces yet again, but for the first time, he didn’t want to cry. _“Sayounara,_ Nezumi.” The only word he’d retained.

Goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the bonus story, I have some ideas on characterization and a little bit of meta that I phrased as canon rather than hypothesis, because for this story (like all my other bonus stories) it is canon. :)
> 
> BONUS:
> 
> If Nezumi were to sit for a moment of introspection, there are a few questions he might ask himself. Everyday, disjointed thoughts sped through his mind at a dizzying speed, never lingering long enough to stick. That’s why he kept busy. That’s why he wandered the forest. There was too much behind him to sit still and a great deal of those things still chased him mercilessly.
> 
> Back in West Block, ages twelve through sixteen, he’d known everyone in his field. He was a vigilant networker, and everyone who was anyone knew at least one of his pseudonyms. He knew every singer, ever drag queen, ever stripper, and every prostitute. Anyone regarded as a sex symbol in the public eye, and everyone’s managers, pimps, and agencies. It was the only way to assure he got competitive pay, and the only way to know where he needed to compete harder.
> 
> So, one thing he might have asked himself was why he was different. What made the prostitutes burn out with a repulsion for romantic relationships? What made the strippers and drag queens scared to be touched? And what made the singers hate sex? Every single person in his field had done something they’d rather forget in order to get where they were. He certainly had. He had no respect for Eve, and kept her life meticulously separated from his own. But what kept the magic in sex for him? Why hadn’t it been beaten out of him like it had for everyone else? He would never find the answer.
> 
> The truth was that Nezumi was exceptionally good at compartmentalizing. When something was stored away in his brain, it was like it never existed. Even at age twelve, raped and abused by the owners and managers of the theater, he had never associated them with sex or love. He had never considered what they did to be anything but payment. Monetary. A business transaction. Outside of his business life, his sexual awakening had come at a very normal pace. It was only much later in his life that the two activities collided in his mind, and he was as shocked as anyone else, societies morals creeping in on his brain and telling him to be disgusted by what he had done.
> 
> The key to Nezumi’s continued mental health was simple. He always assumed he was average. Until something hit him in the face and convinced him otherwise, he figured every other child had similar experiences. His problems lied in the times he figured it out. Suddenly, anger would consume him. Anger he’d never felt, and hadn’t had the space for before would suddenly be at the forefront of his mind as he understood the possibilities that other’s privilege could bring. 
> 
> For West Block, Nezumi was well off. He had a home with plumbing, heat, and a bed. He had food enough not to starve. He occasionally had the disposable income for things he wanted. Sugar or alcohol or the like. Surrounded by other orphans who had no homes, no food, no clothes, he felt lucky. That too, was key. Whether or not you’re truly fortunate in the scheme of things, all that matters is who you’re around. A poor, orphaned child, Nezumi was surrounded by poverty and hardship that made his lot look light.
> 
> For a long time, No. 6 was just an idea. It was something of a concept or an allegory that could barely fit in his head. His grandmother had raised him on hatred of No. 6, and his formative years had been badly marred by atrocities caused by the Holy City. Still, it was like blaming misfortunes on the devil. Too huge a concept to make destroying it more than a fantasy. Even when he reunited with Shion at age sixteen, though Nezumi would never admit it, he was still an idealistic child. Certainly more streetwise than Shion was, but idealistic nonetheless. When Shion came into his life, and managed to destroy No. 6 within three months, it was more than Nezumi imagined could ever happen in his lifetime.
> 
> So, maybe it wasn’t so strange that he fell for the bizarre, airheaded boy who saved his life as a child, only to reappear and make his wildest fantasy come true. Maybe it was the small window between compartmentalization and childhood fantasy that Shion managed to fit through and become an irreplaceable part of his life. Maybe their relationship was a fluke of nature and perfect timing. But Nezumi couldn’t imagine life without Shion, because he wouldn’t have had life without Shion. So maybe, for him at least, it was inevitable.
> 
> But Nezumi would never think of this. He would never sit still for long enough, and never reach into the tangled mess of his heart for long enough to put the pieces together. But that’s fine. Because he didn’t have to. However it happened, it happened and Nezumi was glad for that.


	12. Home again, home again

Shion arrived in No. 6 on a sunny day, along with the seven living scientists and five immigrants. His mother had cried when she saw his scars, but they were healing. Within a month, they didn’t hurt anymore. On one sunny day, while the dogs all swam in the river, Shion had recounted his story to Inukashi who responded by flying into a rage.

“That damn rat! He doesn’t know a thing!” They rubbed their head against Shion’s injured arm soothingly. “You’re better off.”

Shion nodded, not believing it.

Life returned to normal, but Shion felt like a different person. Maybe that’s what life was about: breaking and scar tissue. He didn’t feel as much anymore. He hadn’t broken down or cried once since arriving home. Over anything. He didn’t feel guilty, and he didn’t feel panicked. He focused on his work, and got things done more quickly and efficiently than ever before. The last remnants of the wall were finally broken down, and artists had painted the pieces, building beautiful murals around the government building.

Ten more immigrants from the mountains arrived and integrated. Kawari was one of them. The two had even been on several dates, which was nice. It was a stark contrast from how his relationship with Nezumi had been. With Kawari, Shion was clearly in charge. Things were spelled out and clear. They hadn’t fought about much at all, and he hadn’t been punched in the face even once, which was a change. But although the lows were not very low, the highs were nonexistent. They went out for coffee once a week, chatting about nothing important. Kawari was up front about his feelings, which were usually nothing important and his problems were mostly uninteresting. Still, it felt good to be “moving on” with someone else. That’s what Shion told himself, ignoring his friends’ accusations that it was weird he was dating someone who looked so much like Nezumi.

Now that the Committee knew mostly what was outside the city, they discovered there wasn’t much they needed to do. The everyday needs of No. 6 were being handled by the government officials, and the economy was stable. Shion’s workload decreased dramatically, mostly focussed on basic city planning and vetoing suggestions for new development on the poorer outskirts of what was once outside the wall.

Absently, Shion noticed his hair was getting longer. He hadn’t cut it in months, and it was now long enough that he needed to pin it out of his eyes. Kawari had taken to braiding it for him every time they saw each other, and with Shion mostly associating with the Mao immigrants and Inukashi, nobody had suggested he cut it.

“Honey, can I cut your hair please?” his mother begged. “It’s getting unruly.”

Shion stared blankly. “Why?”

She sighed. “Don’t you think you’d look so much more handsome if we could see your face? Not to mention more professional?”

Shion looked down at himself. Professional… he’d been looking less and less professional every day. With his decrease in workload, he'd taken to wearing more comfortable clothes that he felt he could run in. Not that he needed to. It just felt… safer, somehow. Currently, he was wearing a T-shirt, worn out jeans, and a jacket. He took a swift kick to his ego when he realized who he looked like.

“I don’t want to cut it,” he whispered weakly and turned towards the door.

His mother called after him, “Please change your mind!”

Shion shut the door behind him, breathing in the outdoors. He needed to go for a walk. Pacing through the streets, nobody spoke to him. Several people averted their eyes. People had been doing that more and more- looking away from him. It was true that his demeanor had darkened considerably in recent months, but it’s not like his innate personality had changed.

It was warm out, but he refused to take his jacket off and expose the mean looking scars that ran down his arms and frightened children. People were used to the ones on his neck and face, and that was a good thing since he couldn’t exactly hide them.

Before long, he found himself facing the forest that bordered the outskirts of what once was West Block. He was only a five minute walk from the old room he had stayed in all those years ago… He hadn’t been back since the fall out of respect, and now he refused to return out of spite. It was nearing five months since he had seen Nezumi, and he was refusing to feel bad about it. Biting back a sudden rush of anger, Shion tied his hair back and took off running into the forest, dodging fallen branches and shrubs and bending under low hanging boughs. He ran until breathing stung his throat and bruised his chest, and then he stopped. There was silence all around. He wasn’t sure how far he had run, but there couldn’t have been any people around for some distance. The forest was silent and still save for the wind and the birds.

The pain in his chest was from running, nothing else. The sting in his eyes was from the wind, nothing else. He collapsed to his knees from exhaustion, nothing else. He sat for some time, thinking of nothing but physical sensation. He focused on the pain in his chest, trying to make it grow. The pain in his knees from collapsing to them so heavily, how badly could he make that hurt? Inside, he was hollow. He felt nothing. It was better that way. That’s what Nezumi always-

No, that’s what he had learned. All by himself.

He stared blindly out at the trees, listening. Silence. He was alone. That was good. If he stayed out here forever by himself, listening to the trees, that was good. He didn’t need to go home to his mother, or his friends, or Kawari. If he disappeared, they might guess he’d gone back to the Mountain Village. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. There was nothing that could make him return.

The silence was broken by eager footsteps. Shion jumped up, watching carefully the direction they had come from, searching through his pockets for the knife he had recently taken to carrying. He flipped it open, eyes narrowed and waiting.

A dog bounded forward, circling around Shion’s knees and laying at his feet. Shion recognized it instantly as one of Inu’s. Sure enough, a moment later, Inukashi emerged through the brush, following the dog.

_“There_ you are. I had to get my dog to track you.” Inukashi tilted their head at him. “You look like Nezumi.”

“You look like a stalker,” Shion shot back, offended.

“You _sound_ like Nezumi,” Inukashi added, frowning. “Gross.”

“What do you want?” Shion closed his knife and stuck it back in his pocket.

Inu growled, “Nothing! I was trying to help you. Never mind.” They called their dog, “C’mere!” The dog bounded happily back over to Inu. “You’ve gotten cold, Shion.”

Shion felt a little bad. “Wait! I’m sorry.” His shoulders softened. “Really, I’m sorry.”

Inu gazed at him with distrust. “Okay.”

Shion stared expectantly. “Well?”

“Well, a bunch of new Mao immigrants just showed up and they’re looking for you,” Inu reported. “It doesn’t look like good news.”

Shion went cold. “Oh no…” He ran forward to meet Inu. “Okay, let’s go.”

He was surprised by how far he had run. The hike back seemed way longer, especially with the terrible anticipation of news from the immigrants. He huffed, out of breath by the time he reached the city’s borders, and took off down the paved streets, leaving Inukashi behind.

A group of Mao people were standing in the plaza, there looked to be about thirty of them. Kawari was with them, looking terrified.

“Shion!” he called. “Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry!” Shion ran forward, approaching the throng. “What’s going on?”

A thin man with deep circles under his eyes approached Shion. He held a baby wrapped in silk. “We’re on the brink of civil war. There’s unrest among our people, and we’re afraid of what’s to come. We’re closing the borders and building a wall. It doesn’t look good.” He gestured to the crowd. “We’re here to ask for your help. We don’t know what to do.”

Panic, guilt, and heartbreak. All of it came rushing back at once. Shion nodded. “Okay. Yes, of course we’ll help.”

Kawari stepped up beside him. “How?”

Shion found no answer. He gazed into the expectant, desperate eyes of the people around him and found he had nothing to say. “I… I will negotiate with your government,” he improvised. “And… if that fails…” He gulped. “I’ll break down the wall.”

A woman in the crowd frowned. “Can you do that?”

Shion nodded bleakly. “I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again.”

Kawari wrapped his arms around Shion’s waist from behind. “He has,” he practically purred.

Shion frowned at him, stepping forwards and out of his arms. “Yeah. I can do it.”

—

“You can’t do it.” A group of government officials frowned at him. “If the Mao people are going to war, that’s not our responsibility. We don’t have the resources or the cause to intervene.”

“It’s our responsibility to intervene!” Shion argued. “Our sudden intrusion upon their society was the cause of their unrest, and it’s inarguably our fault that they’ve been segregated and oppressed for decades.”

It was like talking to a wall. “I understand your concerns, Councilor, but there’s nothing we can do. We’re currently preoccupied with the infrastructure issues in East District. Maybe if you can get enough supporters, we can send some aid. Why don’t you organize a fundraiser? We can send food and blankets.”

Shion’s shoulders tightened. “That’s meaningless. The Mao people are on the brink of self destruction. They don’t need blankets. They need intervention! I can go myself. I’ll talk to their officials and see what we can do to halt the building of a border wall. If we don’t do something now, they could end up going the way of No. 6!”

A woman in a sharp pantsuit stepped forward, sighing helplessly. “We can’t approve that. It would put you in danger, and you have too much business here. We don’t know those people. No. 6 doesn’t have an army, and we have no idea what the Mao people are capable of. Besides, we can’t spare the resources. Travel to the Mountain City is at least a month’s venture.”

Shion felt like his core had disappeared. His guts, his soul, whatever he was was gone and replaced by rage that burned the edges of his vision. “No offense, Councilor, but that’s bullshit. No. 6 can easily spare a month’s worth of resources to support a small team of interveners. I know our city’s numbers. It’s perfectly doable if we’re only willing to make some small sacrifices here-“

“Who will bear that responsibility?” She smiled patronizingly. “The hardworking citizens of No. 6? It’s not a worthy use of tax dollars when we have so many more pertinent issues here.”

“Then raise taxes!” Shion argued. “We owe this and more to them.”

It was useless. None of them would budge. Shion swallowed the rage that was building like bile in his throat and tried to look neutral.

“I understand,” he acquiesced. “Thank you for your time.” He thought the words could tear holes in his throat, but he smiled and turned to leave, new plans formulating in his mind.

Here was something else he had learned from Nezumi: how to speak. As the sky grew darker, Shion gathered every Mao immigrant in his apartment and addressed them all.

“Your government has failed you yet again. From now on, this is up to us.” The crowd was silent and attentive. “If you love your city-- both the city of your birth, and the city you wanted to give a chance-- then it’s gotta be up to you. There are forty-three people here. Thirty-seven who are of age. I will need every single one of you to make this happen.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a key. “I have the key to the overflow supply room. We need to do this quickly and disappear before anyone realizes what’s happened. I’ll need about six strong people to help take whatever we can fit onto four city vans and another four to drive. I’ll open the biometric lock, but it will only give you fifteen minutes to grab everything you need before the system works out what’s happening and shuts down. We need to be gone by then.” Pleadingly, Shion turned to his mother, who was sitting amongst the crowds, looking scared. “Mom, you know I trust you more than anyone. Take care of the children. Make sure they get to school and that they’re healthy, but be careful.” Shion looked away, ashamed he was even mentioning the possibility. “However revolutionized this city has become, the government officials were raised in the culture of the original No. 6, and as well as being human, they’re prone to do horrible things.” He forced himself to look back at his mother so he could be sure she understood. “Keep your eyes open. Always. If anything turns sour, get the children in a van and drive as fast as you can to the Mountain Village. Do you understand?”

“Shion, you can’t possibly think anything bad will happen,” She protested.

“It can, and it very well might!” he shouted, surprising himself with his assertiveness. “Don’t trust this city. Don’t trust anyone. And most of all, don’t forget. This is No. 6.”

She nodded, and swallowed her fear.

Shion turned back to the Mao immigrants. “Good. We need to go now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't a bonus here because it's late, and I'm sick. Instead, enjoy these terrible thoughts:
> 
>  
> 
> *Shion's dad is very much like Nezumi in that he's a hopeless wanderer who hated the government and left Karan in order to wander the forest away from No. 6
> 
> *Shion and his mom either have very similar taste in men
> 
> *Or, Shion grew up listening to stories about his dad
> 
> *And still harbors this need for a father figure
> 
> *Remember how happy he was when Nezumi pretended to be his dad that one time?
> 
> *That one time they hugged for about an hour
> 
> *Do you see where I'm going with this?
> 
> *I'm saying Shion has a daddy kink.
> 
> *Now you had to think about that too.


	13. Hasa Diga Eebowai

The biometric lock to the overflow storage room of downtown No. 6 whirred, scanning Shion’s cornea and fingerprints. The old phrase he’d repeated so long ago rang in his head like it did every time he used these biometrics. It was a pavlovian response. _I pledge my unwavering loyalty to the city._ The lock clicked open, and the seven thieves snuck inside.

Like clockwork, they gathered supplies, loading them on to four stolen vans. Nobody made a sound. Within thirteen minutes, everything was loaded, and Shion shut the door. He jumped when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Inukashi was glaring at him. “I’m coming with you.”

“No you’re not.” Shion shook his head. “You have a kid. This isn’t your fight.”

“Shion’s thirteen! He can look after himself. It’s my fight if you’re in it. I don’t like how you’ve been acting lately. I can’t in good conscience let you go.” Inu’s frown deepened.

“Since when do you care?” Shion raised an eyebrow. “You’d only be risking your life.”

Inukashi socked him in the stomach. “That attitude is _exactly_ why I’m coming, and you can’t stop me.” They jumped into the van and curled up against a window before Shion could say another word. At that moment, lights flicked on, and there was nothing else that could be done. All four drivers sent the vans rocketing forward, escaping into the forest. Shion sat in the back, counting their supplies over and over, just in case. The van lurched and vibrated horribly as they hit the uneven terrain of the forest, but nobody made a sound. They had stolen guns. Shion stared at the evil looking weapons and the boxes of ammo that accompanied them, counting them compulsively and repeatedly.

Nearly an hour into this pointless task, Kawari (who had been sitting next to Shion the whole time without him realizing it) put a hand on his shoulder. “You should sleep. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

Shion nodded, leaning into Kawari’s offered arm without a word, but didn’t manage sleep for the next two hours. When he did sleep, he slept lightly, off and on throughout the night, woken by any slight noise. He was terrified they were being followed by No. 6 officials, and paranoia exacerbated his insomnia.

Shion was thankful for solar panels as they continued to drive for five days straight. They only ever stopped to distribute food rations and relieve themselves. They arrived much sooner than Shion had expected, and were greeted by a terrifying vision. Metal scaffolding extended into the sky fifty feet, and heavy cement already covered half of it, creating a terribly familiar affect.

The outsides were covered with graffiti, the most prominent of which boldly stated _THIS IS NO. 6._ It was accompanied by a disturbingly realistic image of a man on fire, with wide gray eyes that held such terror Shion found it hard to look at. The group circled the wall silently on foot, sticking close to the trees. More graffiti covered every surface. _LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO US,_ and a few words in Mao language which Kawari informed him meant _‘fuck you, God.’_

On the west side of the wall, there was a gate. It was there the group decided to camp out. They parked the vans in the safety of the forest, and kept vigilant lookout as night began to fall.

Shion considered what to do. It was possible they’d just let him in. He could stand at the gates, and let himself be taken to the government officials. He shook his head. That was a naive, stupid plan. He needed someone Mao. He needed someone to go back in as if they’d never been gone and find a way to let in the rest of them. His answer took his hand.

“Kawari, I need to ask something of you.” Shion looked at him seriously.

“What’s that?” Kawari smiled.

“I need you to get inside the gate and let us in.” Shion held his eye contact, realizing the weight of this request.

Kawari looked shocked. “They could throw me in prison. Or kill me. People are on edge, Shion.”

“You have the best chance of any of us. Nobody said this was going to be easy.” Shion took his other hand, stepping in close. “I trust you. Actually, you’re the only one I trust. I need you to do this for me. For your people.”

Kawari melted. “Okay.”

Shion smiled, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “Tomorrow morning. Thank you.”

Kawari put a shaking hand on the side of Shion’s face. “I love you.”

Guilt, panic, and heartbreak. Shion closed his eyes, unsure of what to do. It had to be worth lying for this mission. Objectively, it had to be worth everything. They’d committed treason. Shion crushed his already injured conscience and touched Kawari’s face as well. “I love you too.” They kissed deeply, and Shion’s mind raced.

_I’m nothing. I’m a worthless manipulative liar. I’m everything Nezumi tried to protect me from becoming. Because he could see it too. He knew I had the potential to become this. This is me faced with reality. I’m awful. Kawari deserves better. Nezumi deserved better. No wonder he hates me. Look who I am. I’m angry, abusive, and bullheaded and I use people who love me. I should leave this mission to the good people._

But he didn’t. Instead, he let Kawari run his hands up under his shirt, exploring his body like they were real lovers. To Shion’s horror, he realized how good of an actor he could be. It was easy to gasp and play back. It was easy to hum in satisfaction to Kawari’s whispered _‘I love you’s._ It was easy to react to his body positively, because sex was easy, and he knew what to do. Sex felt good, regardless of love. Regardless of who he was thinking of. So he allowed himself to be lead away to a reclusive spot in the forest, and it was just too horribly easy. It was easy to blush and gasp because he really did like this boy. It was easy to moan his name because at least it was his real name. And it was easy to make Kawari come so hard he sobbed because the boy was in love with him.

Kawari fell to pieces in Shion’s arms, and Shion knew how to take care of him. He rubbed his back, kissed his cheek and neck, and whispered reassurances. After five months together, he knew what to say. He redressed him, smoothed his shirt, and lead him back to the van to sleep for the night.

And it was all too horribly easy.

—

The next morning, Shion and Kawari woke with the sun. The two said a tearful goodbye, and Shion watched from a safe distance as Kawari approached the wall. He looked up, and shouted something in Mao to the gate keepers, and they opened the gates. Now, there was nothing to do but wait.

For two days, nothing happened. Shion was growing deeply concerned, and so were all of the refugees. Inukashi was keeping vigilant watch at Shion’s side, and licked his hand on occasion whenever Shion’s expression grew too troubled.

At around seven o'clock in the evening, something happened. The gates opened. A familiar figure was standing in the gap, looking small. Shion ushered the group forward, guns in hand. He knew where to go first. He was ready.

His eagerness died when he approached the gate. Kawari was shaking violently, holding a bloodstained knife. Shion ran forward, eyes widening in shock when he noticed the blood on Kawari’s clothes and in his hair.

“What happened?” He whisper-shouted as he rushed forward.

Kawari just shook his head, then hunched over suddenly to vomit on the ground. He gasped and coughed. “I- I j-just… I j-just…” He wiped his mouth, standing upright. “I k-killed-“ He broke down sobbing. “I d-didn’t mean t-to, he t-tried t-to… h-he t-tried t-to” His teeth were chattering heavily.

Shion wrapped an arm around his waist, trying to calm him down. “Shh, it’s okay. We’ll talk later when you’re calm. You did good.”

Kawari nodded gratefully.

Shion gestured to the crowd, “Get inside. Just down the main street to the right, three buildings down. Fifth floor. Take it.”

The terrified group of inexperienced freedom fighters nodded, and went off in that direction. Shion and Inukashi walked slower, hiding behind corners and in shadows, supporting Kawari’s weight. When they approached the building, it was already chaos.

“SHION!!” Nezumi’s voice called out, “CALL OFF YOUR DOGS, YOU PRICK!”

Shion couldn’t suppress a small vindictive grin. He left Kawari with Inukashi and rushed to join the group trying to take over Nezumi’s house. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, smiling like a maniac. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?” He called.

Nezumi charged out the front door with wet hair, already dressed in pajamas, gun at his back. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Even through his spiteful rage, Shion’s heart fluttered upon seeing him again. “Dare you to try! I’ve got extreme fire superiority!”

Nezumi yelled wordlessly in blind rage.

“Is this what you want? Do you see these walls? Isn’t this what you’ve been fighting against your whole life?” Shion was almost hysterical with the desire to laugh, yet angry tears sprung to his eyes.

“I should have let you DIE!” Nezumi screamed. “I should have let you BURN IN PRISON!”

Shion shrugged, “Well, that was your mistake. Thankfully for the rest of the world, I’m here to cause your revolution. _Again.”_

“I can do this without you!” Nezumi growled, shoving the gunman away from his back. “You have no idea what’s going on here!”

“How dare you stand inside these walls and proclaim you’re better!” Shion began climbing the stairs. “How dare you forget everything we’ve done to come this far!” He scowled as he reached the fifth floor. “And how dare you speak propaganda against me to your city! You absolute fucking hypocritical demagogue! What have you learned?!”

“I’ve learned I was right about you all along! I knew you’d turn against me, and I let you get inside my head and convince me we could be friends.” He actually looked like he might cry. “You don’t understand what’s going on here. Again, No. 6 is taking my family from me. No. 6 is taking _everything_ from me.”

Shion couldn’t restrain himself any more. He slapped Nezumi across the face as hard as he could. “Fuck you! You utter child! You can’t lock people inside a wall because you don’t want them to leave you!”

Nezumi looked offended and shocked, mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ that Shion would have laughed at if Nezumi hadn’t then proceeded to punch him back, harder, and in the stomach. Shion would have fallen down the stairs if someone hadn’t caught him.

“You have no _fucking clue_ what’s going on here! I’m not ‘locking people in a wall,’ you _psychopath.”_ Nezumi was glaring at Shion with such repulsion that for a moment Shion felt like he was back in West Block, being criticized at every turn for his naiveté. Lights were starting to turn on in the area. Nezumi noticed. “Damn it! Fine! Get your people inside, and get these guns away from me! I guess I have to lay it all out for you, as with everything.” He stormed inside, spewing off a slew of what definitely sounded like Mao swear words.

In a moment, the room was packed beyond capacity with people. Nezumi stood on a chair, counting everyone. He stopped when his eyes fell on Inukashi. “Dog,” he acknowledged.

“Rat.” Inukashi nodded back.

Nezumi appeared to have lost count, and he sighed. “Alright. Someone explain to me what it is you think is going on, and I’ll try to figure out how to deal with all of you.”

Shion glared, trying to maintain his anger, but something about being around Nezumi again was trying to crush every bit of dominance he’d acquired since he’d left.

Shion shoved through the crowd to the front, and stood on his own chair. Like hell was he going to put himself lower than Nezumi. Glaring directly at him, he set about explaining everything he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to come back for chp 15. ;)
> 
> BONUS!!
> 
> In his life, Nezumi had seen death. He had seen the death of many a caretaker, parent, and friend. Each loss scarred his soul, and he would keep the memory of that pain forever. However, until he was twelve years old he had never been alone. From the time he and his grandmother fled the flames when he was five, to the time she had died and left him in the care of the cave people until he was twelve, he had never been all alone. Facing the chaos of West Block with nothing but the clothing he wore, and a stolen box of first aid supplies, he walked the familiar path back to the hidden room he had shared with his grandmother years before.
> 
> The first thing Nezumi noticed about being alone was how much people stared. It seemed that humans could group-camouflage too, because suddenly everyone was looking at him. Men, mostly, waving and saying things in sweet tones.
> 
> The second thing he noticed was how small he was. He had never felt like a child so much until the moment he had no one to look after him, and he realized he had to look after himself. There were two rules to West Block: firstly, everything has a price. Nobody offers anything altruistically. Nezumi had always been taught that, but suddenly he knew it. Secondly, expect the worst always. There wasn’t a corner turned in which Nezumi was certain he wouldn’t be held at gunpoint, or grabbed by the arm and pulled out of view. In the past, everything had been for a reason. In the caves, nobody attacked randomly. Everything was hierarchical and clear. With his grandmother, nobody even saw him. Standing in her shadow, he was invisible. In the forest, there had been peace.
> 
> He found the room. The old dusty room with the books that had taught him the common language. It was well hidden, and nobody seemed to have touched it since he and his grandmother had left. There was a piano in the corner, slightly out of tune. Yellowing sheets of music stood stiffly on the stand, nothing but silent ink since his grandmother had left. He read the notes on the page, mind filling with nostalgic music. He couldn’t play it, but he could read it and it was beautiful. Curiously, his lip trembled. Surprisingly, a tear slid down his cheek. Unexpectedly, his stomach clenched and he fell to his knees, crying. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to be an adult. He wanted somebody to braid his hair and tell him stories and make him invisible again. But there was no one.
> 
> He picked up a book at random, frustrated with himself. A cloud of dust hit the air as Nezumi sat on the bed to read. However many hours it was, Nezumi couldn’t tell. He consumed page after page, savoring each word. When his eyes drooped with exhaustion, Cordelia closed his book and tucked him in. When he reached out into the darkness, there was Ophelia to kiss him goodnight. He spoke aloud to these characters during the day, letting himself become consumed with the fantasy of their lives. He wanted characters that were worse than him, who could shake him with vigor and tell him his problems were nothing compared to the struggles of the whore Fantine, and his hunger was painless compared to that of the Boy and his Father who walked the road.
> 
> Working at the theater, it was easy to become these characters for more than just on stage. The donors and directors and well-off fans who paid to spend the evening with him became Marylou’s train ticket home. The world around him became the playground of the ever-confident Alex the Large, a sociopath and criminal who buried Nezumi’s fear and sadness like it was nothing. Stuck in a tight spot, it was easier to laugh in the face of danger if he was Randle McMurphy, taking the punches as they came. Missing the ones he had lost, he was Dean Moriarty still holding out a little bit of hope he would see them again. Home alone, when his thoughts were too loud and he couldn’t find meaning anymore, he was Dorothy who persevered and accepted that the journey was tough, but someday she would find her way home.
> 
> For years, that’s how it was. Until one day, all of the sudden, he wasn’t alone anymore. When he was sixteen years old, his bed got a little warmer, and the one sleeping next to him accepted him for who he was. The problem was, Nezumi wasn’t sure who he should be. Conflicting ideologies and philosophies of different characters overtook his being, and though Nezumi felt he was an empty patchwork, Shion didn’t seem to care. In three months, the charade melted for the first time since he was small. He found himself with Shion’s help, and it scared him more than words could say. When he left Shion behind, he also left behind the books and the stories and ran headfirst into solitude, ready at last to be alone. The characters who had raised him faded into his past, and he discovered the world anew with his own two eyes, holding himself in his own two hands, and he wasn’t lonely at all.


	14. Kinkshame me in my own home

Shion confidently explained all the details of what he had heard about the wall, civil war, and the anti-immigration laws. Nezumi gazed at him slack-jawed the entire time, but Shion didn’t let it throw his confidence.

When he finished, the crowd clapped. Nezumi shook his head sadly.

“That’s so entirely not…” He shook himself, staring right back at Shion. “We didn’t build this wall to keep our people _in,_ you idiot. We built it to keep your people _out._ Because for the past four months, your research team and their buddies have been coming in and _preaching_ to us about the glory of No. 6! Beyond that, your citizens are demanding our drugs, and our rates of serious addiction have increased _fifty percent._ It’s destroying our people! There are gangs now that completely depend on income from No. 6. This happened in _six months._ What would happen do you think if we left it alone for longer? Besides, we can’t handle your poverty tourists. It’s disrespectful.”

This was something Shion had never heard. It was shocking, and _highly relevant_ news, so he was a little suspicious that nobody had mentioned it. “That’s not what these people are saying.”

“Because that’s not what happened.” A man stepped forward. “All these people didn’t leave the city because we thought No. 6 was better. We did it because this place is getting worse. One day, I asked to go beyond the wall, and they said the borders were closed. That nobody was allowed outside without cause and permission. Soon, it came to be that only hunters and fishers were allowed outside. We were trapped. The people started to whisper, and talks of revolution were spreading quickly. I have a baby. I can’t raise my child in a war. When I heard the first gunshots, I and several others planned an escape, then hiked all the way to No. 6.”

“That’s not the fault of the government! It’s the fucking border gangs that are trafficking drugs through our fishing ports.” Nezumi folded his arms, scowl deepening. “You can leave whenever you want according to actual law. The only reason that’s not a reality is because of the _FUCKING BORDER GANGS.”_

Shion’s jaw set. “Then that’s who we’re here for. What’s their firepower?”

_“YOU CAN’T JUST RUN IN AFTER ORGANIZED CRIME WITH TWENTY REFUGEES AND SOME SHOTGUNS!”_ The deep anger lines in Nezumi’s forehead, along with his increasing flush and heavy breathing reminded Shion strongly of a bull about to charge.

“Then what are we supposed to do?! This is civil war! People are going to die if we don’t fight!” Shion shouted back.

“You are going to die if you fight!” Nezumi countered. “Look, I’m doing my best here, but the government offers no help because the gangs own them all, and everyone’s terrified to even acknowledge what’s happening for fear of repercussion. They’ve killed people. Don’t underestimate the ability of junkies to grab money and power. They may seem harmless, but they’re fucking vicious. Especially with someone good as their leader.”

Shion’s head swam. This from a man who had single handedly attempted to charge in after a corrupt and power hungry government at any cost when he was just sixteen. Where was his fighting spirit now? “This is No. 6,” Shion said, schooling his voice into something resembling power. “This is who we fight, because that’s who we are. This is No. 6!”

“These are the ghosts of genocide. This is the balance of power the Holy City created.” Nezumi’s voice was chilling. “We’re still running from the flames. We will always be running. I will destroy No. 6, and we will reclaim our city.”

Shion stared at him blankly, swallowing down his anger and waiting until he could be calm. He shrugged. “I’m gonna blow up your wall. Also, this is my house now. Stay if you want.” He stepped down off the chair, then smiled with another sudden thought and added, “But if you leave, I never want you back.”

Nezumi stepped down too, stepping right up into Shion’s space in an attempt to intimidate him. _“You_ are No. 6. Kick me out of my home while your people rape my culture. Promise to fight for my rights as if I can’t, yet you don’t have the skills to find your own place, so you take mine! Watch you become the next great terrorist of the Mao Village. Watch this place become No. 7.”

“Watch me do what you can’t.” Shion didn’t back down. They were scarcely an inch apart. The entire room held it’s breath. “I’ve always been willing to go it alone, remember? I’ll run right into the flames.”

“Burning hurts,” Nezumi replied. “Trust me.”

There was something like electricity that sparked in the air around them. Shion’s heart beat faster, and despite (or perhaps because of) the rage he felt deep in his stomach, he secretly wished he could stay in this moment forever. This is how Nezumi made him feel. Maybe it was wrong to feel that way, to have such an attraction to dysfunction and abuse, but he did. He couldn’t help it. As nice and respectful as his relationship with Kawari was, it never had a moment like this. Standing in front of Nezumi, eyes burning with hatred, he felt so alive. He was shouting, and Nezumi was fighting back. It charged his soul, and activated his skin.

“Better than feeling numb.” Shion smirked. “You taught me that.”

“Then you weren’t paying attention. Save yourself first, Shion. Always.” Nezumi relaxed, backing away slightly. “That’s the way you win.”

“I have something worth dying for,” Shion said, relaxing too.

“Then you’ve already lost.” Nezumi shrugged, then gestured to the crowd. “Organize your possessions. They breathe too loudly for me to sleep.”

Shion turned to the people, who were staring in silence. “Find a place, set up camp, and go to sleep. We trust him. Kawari, go shower. You’re covered in blood.” Shion took a step towards Nezumi, smiling. “Goodnight.” He leaned in and kissed Nezumi briefly before he could react.

Nezumi shot him a look of pure disgust before stalking off to his bedroom. Shion just grinned, and turned back to the crowd. “Early morning. Get some sleep.”

—

Red posters covered the floor, and where there weren’t posters, there were people. Each one bore in yellow lettering _“Babel Will Fall, The Walls Will Come Down.”_

Nezumi walked in on them, deep circles under his eyes and bedhead up to the ceiling. “Arts and crafts time?” he mumbled, stepping over people to get to the kitchen and start brewing a pot of coffee. He read the posters. “Ooh. Biblical reference. Powerful. I’m sure everyone will totally get the point of what you’re doing.”

Shion ignored his sarcasm. “It’s a reference to the Babylon Convention, actually. And they don’t have to know what we’re doing. They just have to know that something’s being done.”

“Hm.” Nezumi picked his way over to the couch, and sat down to watch. “Any particular reason you brought the dog? Don’t they have a baby?”

“He’s thirteen.” Inukashi looked up. “And I chose to come.”

“Thirteen…” Nezumi mused. “My, how time flies.” He thought for another moment. “Does that make him Shion the third?”

“No. Huh? The second.” Shion frowned at him.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you.” Nezumi sat up straighter. “Your dad calls himself Shion as well.”

Shion frowned deeper. “Is that supposed to be funny? I don’t have a dad.”

“Yeah, maybe not in the baseball game sense, but you have a father. I met him. He really wanted to fuck me.” Nezumi grinned. “Wow, like father like son. Maybe I should give Inu’s kid a call. See if we can keep the streak going.”

Shion prickled in annoyance. “You’re full of shit.”

“Yeah.” Nezumi nodded. “But this is actually true. I met him in the forest a long time ago, after I left you.” He smiled like Shion’s reaction was the best Christmas present he could ever receive.

“Leave me alone.” Shion didn’t want to even consider whether that was true or not. He had other things to worry about.

“What are you trying to do, Nezumi?” Kawari spoke up.

Shion jumped. God, he kept forgetting that guy was around.

Nezumi smiled brighter. “Oh, Kawari! I didn’t notice you. Welcome to my home. Or, Shion’s home I guess. Since he’s claimed it.”

“Don’t let him get to you.” Kawari wrapped an arm around Shion’s waist, and kissed his cheek possessively.

Nezumi laughed. “Oh my god! Are you my understudy? Or no, you’re way too… how do I say it… boring. Basic? Definitely basic. So that means…” He clapped. “I figured it out! Tell me if I’m right, I think I am. You’re Shion’s understudy, and he’s trying to step up and fill my shoes.” He looked positively delighted. “So that’s what’s up with Shion’s new attire. I thought he was just trying to look the part of an activist, but no! He’s dressing like me! That’s why he hasn’t cut his hair in about a year.”

Kawari blushed, standing up from his spot on the floor. “You don’t know anything about us! We love each other.”

Shion hid his face in his hands, wishing he could disappear. “Kawari, you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“See!” Nezumi shook with laughter, and fell back against the couch. “That’s what I said to him all that time ago!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Shion glared at him. “I do love him.”

“Oh, fuck you. No you don’t.” Nezumi caught his breath, and wiped his eyes. “Don’t bullshit the kid, Shion. He’s really stupid and he’s gonna believe you.”

“I’m not stupid! And I’m not a kid.” Kawari glared daggers, but his anger simply couldn’t match Nezumi’s mirth.

“This is adorable! It’s like a rom com but real and infinitely more inane. Is that why you’re fighting, Shion? What a junkie you are. Got hooked on the destruction of No. 6, and now you’re here to relive those days. Is your hero status wearing thin at home? But you couldn’t find anyone to lead you into battle, so you decided to swing for my part and bring on another naive romantic to cling to your coattails. Gorgeous. So human. So clean. I’m enthralled by the plot already.”

“You’re gonna get yourself punched in the jaw,” Kawari said through gritted teeth.

Nezumi raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Alright. Come try.” He smiled, tilting his head to present an easy target.

Kawari hesitated.

“Thought not.” Nezumi shrugged. “Ah well. Keep making your little craft projects. I’ll be quiet and let you work.”

Shion scowled, but turned back to the posters. He had more important things to worry about. Besides-- and he’d never admit it to anyone-- it felt kinda good to lose. The feeling of being so thoroughly ground into the dirt… It made his heart flutter and his cheeks hot.

Nezumi’s promise of silence lasted all of five minutes.

“Did it make you angry when he kissed me last night?” Nezumi was resting his chin in his hands, with a shit-eating grin plastered square across his face.

Kawari didn’t look up.

“This is infantile,” someone in the crowd spoke up.

“Oh, shut up. I’m having fun,” Nezumi shot back. “So. Kawari. Did it make you mad? Were you jealous? Your boyfriend kissed me goodnight. After we screamed insults at each other. You know he’s into that, right? He’s not a dominant type at all. He likes being talked down to. He’s a masochist.”

Kawari didn’t respond. Shion was glad.

“I know he’s living out this little fantasy with you where he’s the boss and you follow him around with giant, enamored eyes, but it’s just role play. If you really want to make him squirm, call him an idiot. Tell him he’s worthless and doesn’t know anything about life. Oh, hold a knife to his throat and tell him you’ll kill him if he tries to kill himself. A little redundant, I know, but I swear to god you’ll make him come so hard he passes out.”

“Shut _up,_ Nezumi!” Kawari finally broke. “Why are you such an asshole?”

Nezumi waved him off. “Don’t worry about Shion’s feelings. He’s getting off on this too. Look, see? He’s blushing.”

It was true. Shion stared firmly at the poster he was working on, trying his best to ignore the whole thing.

“Watch this.” Nezumi stood up, and walked over to where Shion was sitting. “Are you really just going to sit there and ignore me while I talk about your weird little kinks in public? These people are looking to you to lead them, and I’m making you seem like a pervert who only cares about one thing. Why are you sitting still? Fight for your dignity!” He ran a hand over the back of Shion’s neck.

As much as Shion told himself it was pretend and Nezumi was just trying to make him mad, the ploy was extremely effective. He shuddered at the sensation of Nezumi’s hand on his neck, which only made Nezumi laugh in victory.

“Told you.” He flopped back on the couch. “I know him better than you.”

At that point, a good three fourths of the crowd stood and moved to Kara and Stroll’s (surprisingly empty) rooms.

Kawari looked distraught. “Shion-“

“Ignore him,” Shion insisted.

“But-“

_“Ignore him,”_ he repeated. “Sit down and get back to work.”

Kawari did as he was told, although his face contorted in a way that clearly expressed he was biting back more protests.

Nezumi laughed. “Alright. Props to you, Shion, on properly training your masturbatory aid. That was almost impressive. I never was able to do that to you.”

Shion gritted his teeth and firmly continued to ignore him as an embarrassing rush of pride filled him at the backhanded compliment.

“I can practically see your tail wagging,” Nezumi drawled. “You really need to learn how to act.”

“Screw you.” Shion couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Well gee, thanks for asking. I’ve been flirting with you this whole time, glad you finally noticed.” Nezumi smirked.

Shion hesitated, not sure if he was being serious or not.

“Oh, dear god, you think I’m serious.” Nezumi hid his face in his hands. “Are you really that horny?”

“You’re jealous.” Shion scowled. “That’s what you’re doing. You’re jealous I’m seeing someone else.” Kawari smiled at that and took Shion’s hand.

That’s when the last fourth of the people left the room.

“We were never together.” Nezumi glanced up from his hands. “Why would I be jealous?”

Shion stood. “Because I’m the only person that flies under your radar. You trust me, and you never learned how to mistrust me. Even now. That’s as good as love for you. So screw you trying to make Kawari sad.”

Nezumi frowned for a moment, then stood up. “I think you’re being an immature nuisance, and you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I think you like taking care of me.” Shion folded his arms and smirked. “You’re happy I’m here. And you like it when I’m stupid, because it makes you feel superior. I could make you shudder, too. I could look at you with wide eyes, and a virginal expression and say dirty things in such an innocent way that I break your sanity for a moment.”

_“You’re_ full of shit.” Nezumi crossed his arms too.

Shion’s grin widened, then he wiped it off his face quickly, opening his eyes to the size of saucers and taking a step closer to Nezumi. “You know, your hands are really beautiful.” He snatched both of Nezumi’s hands in his before the latter could react. “The way they move, everything you do looks precise and practiced. You’re really good with them.” He looked up into Nezumi’s eyes earnestly. “Really, your whole body looks that way. Like you know what to do. How to move. It’s mesmerizing.” He was right. Nezumi looked shocked but calm. Shion grinned and stepped away, breaking the spell.

Nezumi quickly schooled his expression. “Whatever.”

Shion laughed to himself, picking up the finished posters. “Well, I’m gonna send some teams to hang these up. I’m pretty much stuck here for a while. Inukashi, too. Ready to go, Kawari?” He looked around to find Kawari facing away, shoulders rounded. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he snapped, taking the posters from Shion. “I’ll get everyone.”

Everyone was quickly organized into teams. They had to make sure they weren’t noticed hanging them up, and that required some planning and forethought. They decided that afternoon was the best time, since as many civilians as possible would be outdoors. At night, the only ones out were the gang members, and those were the people they were trying to avoid.

Inukashi refused to leave Kara’s bedroom until “Nezumi and Shion are locked in separate rooms from each other.”

That was probably the right call, given the way Nezumi looked at Shion once everyone had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know you're frustrated it ends here. Come back for chapter fifteen, though. It's gonna be good.
> 
> For now, have an extra gay bonus:
> 
> There were many things about living in West Block with Shion that annoyed Nezumi, not the least of which was the kid’s inability to sense danger. He was like a prey animal that had been raised with no natural predators. He was useless. Admittedly, Nezumi had been impressed when Shion had been grabbed by the cannibals, and then proceeded to kick them in the balls and run away. Right up until the point he had run straight off a cliff and nearly died. But anticipating danger before it presented itself was something beyond Shion’s apparent comprehension.
> 
> They were low on food, and had to make another trip outside. If it were up to Nezumi, Shion would remain inside permanently, like a declawed cat. But he insisted on leaving their dark den every now and then, which put Nezumi in the awkward and unwanted position of caretaker.
> 
> Shion bounced along, staring at everything like it was new and fascinating. Nezumi followed him at a short distance, trying not to seem associated. This strategy worked until-
> 
> “Hey, sweetheart. Want a ride?” A man driving a cart full of corn pulled up next to Shion.
> 
> “Oh, wow! Cool car. What does it run on? I’ve never really seen one up close before.” Shion approached him.
> 
> “Wanna try driving her?” The man encouraged, opening the door.
> 
> Shaking his head in annoyance, Nezumi ran up to them. “Hey, asshole! That one’s mine. Why don’t you go jerk off in a cornfield, you East Block wannabe.” He grabbed Shion’s arm and pulled him away, walking as quickly as possible. “Don’t talk to people. Don’t smile at people. And walk like you’re--” He almost said “straight.” They’d cross that bridge when they came to it. “Like you own the ground you’re stepping on.”
> 
> Whether Shion didn’t understand the instructions, or whether he was just unable to follow them, Nezumi had no clue. Men whistled and called out to them, mostly to Shion, and Shion didn’t seem to get that they weren’t just being friendly.
> 
> “Hey.” A man waved at Shion. Nezumi fell back, watching warily. “Hey.”
> 
> Well, at least Shion seemed to follow Nezumi’s instructions to a point. He ignored the man and kept walking.
> 
> “Hey, white boy.” The man jogged to catch up with Shion, walking just behind him. “Is it true that albinos have healing powers?” He continued to follow Shion. “Hey. Hey.”
> 
> Finally, Shion turned around, searching for Nezumi. “What do I do?”
> 
> Sighing, Nezumi ran forward and took Shion’s hand, pulling him through the crowd, around some corners, and away from the creep. They stopped in an alley.
> 
> “Shion, you’re killing me.”
> 
> “What did I do?! I thought I did what you said!” Shion huffed, confused and frustrated.
> 
> “You gotta…” Nezumi gestured at him vaguely. “With the hips, you know? Less. You’re broadcasting a message you really don’t want to broadcast here.”
> 
> Shion stared down at his hips blankly. “What message?”
> 
> Nezumi wanted to laugh. He really did. “That’s… Maybe a conversation for later. Just bounce less, yeah?”
> 
> Shion put his hands on his hips, frowning. “I don’t bounce. I walk normal. What’s wrong with how I walk?”
> 
> “Nothing!” Nezumi massaged his forehead. “Just not out here. At home, or back where you’re from. Not here.”
> 
> “Hm.” Shion looked skeptical. “What message?”
> 
> “God fucking damn it, Shion. I’m so close to knocking you out and dragging you back home.” His fingers curled with stress and anger.
> 
> Shion rolled his eyes. “Fine. I know what you’re trying to say. But honestly, if the occupational therapist couldn’t change how I walk, then--”
> 
> “They sent you to _therapy?!”_ Nezumi exclaimed, finally breaking down and laughing so hard he cried. He leaned against the wall for support, gasping for breath. “What kind of fucking culture…”
> 
> Shion smiled weakly. “Yeah. That’s No. 6. Speech therapy too. For gender inappropriate S’s and feminine intonation. Or something.” He sighed. “So I get what you’re trying to say.”
> 
> Nezumi felt a moment of sympathy before he remembered where they were. He wiped his eyes and caught his breath. “Oh, man. That’s pretty bad. Okay. Let’s be blunt. Walk like you’re straight. You don’t want to be seen as any more of a target than you already are. It helps if you look taken, so stick with me.”
> 
> Shion smirked. “Aw, should we hold hands? Oh, we could wear matching colors and flowers in our hair!”
> 
> Nezumi almost laughed again. “Alright, enough. But… Yeah. Hold my hand. Let’s just get the errand over with.”
> 
> Still smirking, Shion took Nezumi’s hand, and they walked back out into the crowds, ready to face the dangers together.


	15. The one you're skimming for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all better love me now, 'cause this was difficult.

With the house devoid of all the refugees, Nezumi and Shion stood alone in the living room. For a long time, they just stared at each other, saying nothing.

Nezumi broke the silence. “Have you ever said my name when you were sleeping with him?”

“Whoa.” Shion’s eyes widened, extremely surprised by the turn this had taken.

“Come on, I’ve been verbally fucking you since this morning. You’re gonna stop playing now?” He strode forward, placing his hands on Shion’s hips. “So, have you?”

Shion felt numb. He nodded.

Nezumi grinned victoriously, and pulled Shion close, sticking his hands down Shion’s back pockets. “What did he say?”

Hesitantly, Shion slid his hands up Nezumi’s chest, clinging to his shirt. “He… wasn’t pleased.”

Nezumi rolled his hips against Shion’s, humming his approval. “Yeah?”

“But I said it wouldn’t happen again, and he forgave me.” Shion flushed, leaning into Nezumi’s shoulder.

“So did it?” Nezumi continued to gently grind against him.

Shion nodded, then gasped. “Yeah. Three times.” He bit his lip, trying not to moan. “He forgave me each time.”

Nezumi mouthed Shion’s neck and rolled their hips together hard. “I won’t forgive you if you call his name when we do this.”

Shion’s head spun. “Whose name?”

“Good boy.” He stepped away, eliciting a whine from Shion, but then grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bedroom.

Within a matter of moments, Shion found himself flat on his back on Nezumi’s bed, shirt lost possibly for good, with his pants around his ankles.

Nezumi was equally disrobed, his body a patchwork of pink and white scar tissue, light brown flesh, and shining metal. He straddled Shion with a hungry look in his eyes. “Did he ever top you?”

Shion slowly managed to comprehend the question. “No. God no.”

“Good,” Nezumi growled. “That’s mine.” He leaned in, capturing Shion’s mouth and kissing him in a way he’d never been kissed before. It was dominating, and full of lust. His tongue found it’s way into Shion’s mouth, claiming him from the inside out.

Shion gasped when they broke apart for air. “You _were_ jealous.”

“Still am,” Nezumi admitted. “But that’s okay, because I’m going to fuck you so hard that _neither_ of us remember our names.” He slid his hand down Shion’s torso, over his stomach, and down to his thigh where he massaged until Shion wanted to cry with need.

“Nezumi…” He whined, bucking his hips fruitlessly, still restrained by his dampening underwear.

Nezumi complied, fully disrobing the both of them and taking Shion’s cock in one hand while he fished around in his side table drawer with the other.

“Ah, fuck, it’s never here when I need it. Stay still.” He stood up and walked to his closet, Shion protesting loudly. He came back a second later with a jar of lube. “How long until they come back?” He asked.

“Huh…?” Shion panted, his thoughts cloudy. “Oh. A few hours.”

“Good.” Nezumi knelt down carefully between Shion’s legs, adjusting his own metal one. “Then we can have some real fun.” He pumped Shion’s member a few times before slicking his fingers thoroughly. “Chill.” He warned.

Shion gasped to the point he thought he might have pulled a muscle in his lungs when he felt his entrance being breached for the first time. He grabbed Nezumi’s arm, wanting to ask some sort of question, but not remotely knowing what to say. “That- that’s-“

“I know, it feels weird at first,” Nezumi responded absently.

“N-no!” Shion shook his head. “That’s really good…” He moaned, hips thrusting to meet Nezumi’s hand. “Do that more…”

Nezumi hesitated, then complied, fucking Shion a few more times with one finger before adding another.

“Ah~ Ah!” Shion cried. “Mmn… Yeah that’s good.”

It took him a few tries to find Shion’s prostate, but when he managed, the effect was obvious. Shion groaned so loudly he realized he’d need to give a formal apology to Inukashi, and probably everyone on the lower floors.

Shion’s eyes were closed, so he didn’t see it coming until all of the sudden, Nezumi’s mouth was around him, and he was finding it really hard to remember to stay quiet.

“Oh! Oh _god!_ Nezumi!” He grabbed a handful of Nezumi’s hair, and came without warning.

His eyes opened hazily as Nezumi swallowed, and added a third digit as he continued to finger Shion’s hole. “I’ll give you a moment.” Nezumi smiled at him, gently and genuinely.

Shion shook his head. “I don’t need it.” He was already getting hard again, as aftershocks continued to jolt through his body.

“Well, aren’t you the eager one.” Nezumi tried to make fun, but his own voice was so tight with need, it didn’t quite have the right effect.

Shion’s hips were twitching as he watched Nezumi line himself up, and enter him slowly. He gasped, and his eyes drooped, but he forced them to stay open to watch Nezumi’s beautifully crumpled expression as he fully seated himself in Shion.

Shion’s legs trembled at the sensation of being full. It hurt a bit, but not exactly in a bad way. It was a sort of pain that his body knew would become something amazing. He wanted this forever. He might kill someone if it meant he could feel forever how he felt in that moment. What made it infinitely better was the fact he was gazing into those beautiful eyes set gently above pinked cheeks. With a rush of euphoria, he realized he was the one making Nezumi look that way. His beautiful boy was taut with arousal inside of him, because of him. Shion wondered if hearts could break from joy. It seemed like they could.

Nezumi moaned as he started to move, and it sounded like music to Shion. After a moment, however, the gentle treatment suddenly changed tone. Nezumi pulled out, and practically lifted Shion to his hands and knees. Suddenly, Shion was acutely aware that he was being claimed. This was domination, pure and simple. When he looked back as Nezumi repositioned himself, there was no love in those gray eyes. Only jealousy and lust.

“You’re _mine,”_ Nezumi growled, grabbing Shion by the hips and laying into him violently. “You’ve _always_ been mine!”

Shion felt high on oxytocin and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. All he could do was let out a whine as he felt himself be owned.

“Every time he touches you, I want you to know that he’s _borrowing_ you from me.” Nezumi gasped. “Every time you touch yourself, know that you’re playing with my favorite toy, and I will want you back _pristine.”_

Shion sobbed as Nezumi’s hand came down hard on his backside.

“Do you understand?” Nezumi grabbed Shion by the jaw, and hit him again. “Only _I_ am allowed to break you!” He hit Shion again and again until he was numb. Each time Nezumi’s hand collided with his flesh, Shion was built higher and higher until everything was white and his arms gave up supporting him as he came again.

“Haahhh… Nezumi…” He whispered as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Nezumi wasn’t done. He held Shion up by the waist and pumped into his over-sensitive body until he came with a moan and collapsed on top of Shion, still inside him.

They caught their breath, and Shion sighed as Nezumi pulled out to collapse into bed next to him. Shion rolled over to his back, his head feeling fuzzy and loose. His whole body felt tingly and good. He didn’t even notice when Nezumi started braiding his hair, but as he fell from his high his head was in Nezumi’s lap and a braid reached his shoulder. He blinked hazily up at Nezumi and smiled.

“Better than what’s-his-face, right?” Nezumi smirked.

“Who?” Shion frowned. “Oh. Oh yeah. Way better.”

Nezumi looked pleased.

Shion took Nezumi’s hand, playing with his fingers. “They really are beautiful.” He laced their fingers together. “Let’s get married.”

Nezumi laughed. “That good, huh?”

Shion frowned. “I’m serious.”

Nezumi laughed harder. “Then that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”

Shion sat up. “How come?”

Nezumi shook his head. “Well for one, we’re likely about to end up on two different sides of a civil war.”

Shion shrugged. “You’ve always said that. It worked out fine last time.”

“…And two,” Nezumi narrowed his eyes at him skeptically. “It’s not legal. We’re guys.”

“It is in No. 6,” Shion argued. “Kinda. Sometimes.”

“I’m not going to No. 6,” Nezumi said firmly.

“Why? Just for the wedding!” Shion protested, grabbing onto Nezumi’s arm.

“I never agreed to marry you, you weirdo!” Nezumi shoved him away. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Shion deflated. “Oh yeah. I can fix that.”

“I still won't marry you,” Nezumi insisted.

“Why not?” Shion complained.

“Why?” Nezumi held up his arms like he was presenting Shion with a physical question. When Shion didn’t supply an answer, he continued. “Besides, it’s not a great sign when you have to beg a person to marry you.”

“But I really want to.” Shion pouted.

“Tough.” Nezumi shrugged, standing up. “You need a shower.” He looked down at himself. “God, I do too. Let’s go so our hair will have time to dry before everyone gets back.”

“Oh shoot, yeah.” Shion stood, wobbled, then fell back down with a wince. “Ow… I think they’re gonna know.”

Nezumi’s expression warmed. “Aw… Okay. Hop on.” He turned around and held out his arms for Shion to climb on his back.

Shion hesitated. “Can you do that? You know, with your leg?”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. “Of course. This is a one time offer, Shion. Because it’s mostly my fault you can’t walk right now.”

“Entirely your fault,” Shion corrected, climbing on.

Nezumi carried him across the hall to the shower. “You helped. ‘Ah! Nezumi! More! Harder! Ah, ah, ah!’ Sound familiar?”

“Too goddamn familiar!” Inukashi shrieked from within Kara’s room.

Shion gasped in horror. “Oh no! Inukashi, I didn’t mean for you to-“

“Shut up. Just shut up, Shion. I need some peace and quiet so I can bleach my ears.” Inukashi sighed. “I hate you both.”

Shion buried his face in the crook of Nezumi’s neck, mortified. “I can explain! We were just-“

Inukashi started barking loudly, interrupting him.

Nezumi laughed, and carried Shion into the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're trash people, so here's your trash bonus. I'm finally making up for chapter 7.
> 
> Nezumi skimmed footage of No. 6 as recorded through his mouse’s eyes every day. It was a part of his routine. Specifically, he checked in on the Moondrop, the bank, and a few key people that he kept careful tabs on. Oh. Also Shion. There really was a good reason to be watching Shion. Of all the people that were potentially in danger, Shion was top of the list. Also, Nezumi felt a certain debt to the kid, and he wanted to make sure nothing really bad was happening.
> 
> There wasn’t really a good reason to watch Shion nearly as much as he did. But really… what better way to test out the bluetooth live streaming software he had recently installed in one of his robots? That was his excuse, at least, for the day he followed Shion home from school. He made several stops along the way: the grocers, a cafe, and a giant house in Chronos that belonged to his friend Safu. He walked her home from school every day.
> 
> Nezumi watched all of this on a small projector screen he’d put together from old parts. When Shion got home, Nezumi simply followed him in through the front door. The kid really was about as observant as a doorknob.
> 
> “Mom! I’m home!” He called, hanging his school bag on a hook. As the evening wore on, Nezumi kept his mouse following Shion around. He was trying to teach it to follow specific people without his control. It was learning slowly. There were still quite a few bugs in the system. Nezumi barely paid attention as he ate dinner, and got ready for bed. However, just as he was going to shower: _hss…_ The water in Shion’s house turns on, and the little mouse perched itself on a shelf, staring.
> 
> Nezumi almost turned it off. He really did. Just… He couldn’t quite make himself hit the return button to call his robot home. He sat down on the couch, mesmerized as Shion undressed. His skin was so perfectly soft. No scars or marks of any kind. Shion opened the glass door to his shower and sighed as the warm water hit his body. Nezumi almost reached to turn it off again. Almost. Instead, he gave in, realizing he was about to watch the whole thing.
> 
> “Screw it,” Nezumi said to himself as he fell back on the couch. “Not like I’m ever gonna see him again.”
> 
> The noises Shion made could have brought tears to Nezumi’s eyes. It was like he knew he was performing for someone by the way he stretched and moaned.
> 
> Subconsciously, Nezumi’s hand slipped under his pants. Giving up completely, he resolved to doing it properly, freeing himself from his pants and underwear and sighing. He tried to swallow the shame of knowing how wrong this was. Really really inappropriate. Oh well. He’d come this far.
> 
> Nezumi gasped as he realized he and Shion were on the same wavelength. Shion was holding his own hardening cock in his hand, staring at it like he wasn’t sure what to do. “Oh well,” came Shion’s grainy voice through the speakers. He started slowly, and Nezumi matched his pace. When Shion moaned, Nezumi shuddered. Simultaneously, the two increased their speed.
> 
> “Hahh… Shion…” Nezumi moaned as the boy in question braced himself against the shower wall, biting his lip.
> 
> “Mmn…” Shion moaned, hand a blur while his mouth hung open. “Nezumi…”
> 
> _What?!_ It was his imagination. It had to be. Either way, it turned Nezumi on more than he could believe and suddenly he was climbing towards orgasm. “Ahh… Say it again…” He begged the empty room around him.
> 
> “Nezumi!” Shion called out, and this time there could be no mistake.
> 
> With a joyful sob, Nezumi came. A second later, Shion did too and the two panted together in bliss as they came down. Shion shut the water off a moment later, and Nezumi pressed return to call the mouse home. The screen went dark, and suddenly he was alone in his home, left to think about what had just happened. Honestly, he’d probably be thinking about it every night for the rest of his life. He definitely remembered it the day he saw Shion again as they drove away from No. 6 in a stolen car, chatting like old friends.


	16. To cut a man’s hair

Shion couldn’t have been more pleased with the results of the posters. Soon, he was getting reports from his… he was insistently calling them his “people,” rather than his “gang,” but… they delivered reports that the Mao citizens were already gossiping about the word “Babel.” A few nights after they were put up, Shion decided to advance. There was a water tower near the west gate, the insides of which were maintained by a sympathizer to their cause. They were going to take it. With Nezumi’s house in the north and the water tower in the west, they would be able to oversee fifty percent of the city with little movement. Strategically, it was excellent. That night, new posters were scheduled to be hung. Red and yellow like the last ones, though this time bearing the slogan _“Not divine, Babel falls at our hands.”_

Nezumi hummed as he watched them pack. “Starting an orthodox cult? Oooh, Babel again. You’re branding.”

“That’s right.” Shion shouldered his backpack. “You’re welcome to join us. We’re taking the water tower.”

“Nah. Thanks, though,” Nezumi rejected his offer. “I got my own stuff going on. You got west and north covered? Cool, dibs on east and south.”

Shion blinked. “You’re doing your own thing?”

“Yeah, and I’m not about to just tell you where my base is. Water tower… That was stupid.” Nezumi scoffed, crossing his arms.

“I’m not scared of you,” Shion countered, crossing his arms back.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be either,” Nezumi assured. “You’ve got guns and a ragtag group of misfits with lots of gumption. How could you lose? Plus, I don’t intend to attack locally. I don’t want gang violence on my streets.” Nezumi looked over Shion’s shoulder, eyes wide. “Oh, shit. Your little angsty teenager looks like he need some attention.”

Shion spun around. Kawari stood in the doorframe, half-empty bottle of that strange Mao liquor in his right hand while his left hand massaged his head. He had cut his hair. He looked at Shion pleadingly, eyes watery red and bruised purple underneath. He looked emaciated, like he hadn’t eaten in a week. “Shion…”

Shion gasped. “What did you do?” This was so sudden. Just yesterday, hadn’t Kawari- or, no… Shion hadn’t really spoken to Kawari the day before. But that was because he was so busy. This had to have been slow progress, his cheekbones were shockingly sharp. Why hadn’t Shion noticed? When was the last time they’d talked? “Let’s go in the other room.” Shion looked around at the people making posters, who were staring in horror.

“Okay.” Kawari complied, letting Shion wrap an arm around his waist. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay. We’ll work it out,” Shion assured him blindly, not really listening to what he was saying, and certainly not believing it. “You’re gonna be fine.” He sat Kawari down on Stroll’s bed and forced himself to make eye contact. It was painful. He looked so hurt, and Shion knew it was his fault for being so distant. “Why would you do this?”

Kawari’s voice was flat. “I killed that man. And I know it was for the greater good, but… I did that to him. Shion, he-” His voice broke off, and he stared at his lap. “He called for his mother.” Kawari choked on a sob, and grabbed Shion’s hands tightly. “I’m so ashamed. It was self defense, but I’m so ashamed.” He blinked rapidly, and looked back up at Shion. “Look, I know you’re busy, but… Can you just sit with me for a minute? I really… I really need somebody right now.”

Shion’s heart broke for the boy. “Of course.” He kissed Kawari’s cheek lightly. It always stung, how honest Kawari was with his emotions. How vulnerable he would make himself with little thought. Shion used to be that way. “As long as you need.” He rubbed Kawari’s hands. “Have you been eating? Sleeping?”

Kawari shrugged weakly. “Some. I’ve been sick. A lot. And it’s hard to sleep anymore.” He leaned against Shion’s shoulder and sighed. “I know I’m weak. I should be able to take care of myself. And, you know, you’re really strong. You know how to handle this kind of thing. This is new to me.”

Shion wanted to cry with frustration. This past week Kawari had been privately suffering, and Shion hadn’t even noticed. What kind of a person was he? Now, Kawari was turning to him for help, opening up with pure trust that Shion had betrayed. Kawari loved him. Shion could tell, and he hadn’t even cared. He needed to say something honest for once. This wasn’t fair to either of them. “Kawari, I-”

“Just tell me it’s gonna be okay,” Kawari interrupted. “Tell me you still love me, even if you don’t. Please.”

Shion’s mouth hung open with doubt. “You’d… want me to lie?”

“Would you be a lie?” Kawari sat up. “Because if the truth is that I’ve ruined my life and given myself PTSD all for someone I’ve fallen so hard for and who doesn’t love me back, I don’t want to hear it. Chances are, if we go to war, some of us will die. That’s gonna be me. It’s gonna be the weak ones like me who rely on others to keep going. If I’m gonna die, I want to die thinking I’ll live. That my hair will grow back. I want to die thinking I’m gonna go home to No. 6 and live happily ever after with the person I love. If that’s impossible, and you know it, don’t tell me. Please.” He looked sincere. “I don’t want to know.”

In that moment, Shion realized he was looking into the eyes of a dead man. He saw Kawari’s face as a picture in the obituaries and heard his name as being read off a plaque on a wall. This was the ghost of a dead soldier who still happened to be warm. And Shion could have prevented it all. Now, there was only one fair thing to do.

“I won’t lie to you,” Shion lied. “Because I don’t have to. We’re going to get out of this together. Then we’re going to go home together. Back to No. 6 where we can be happy.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. “Of course I still love you.”

Kawari wrapped his arms around Shion’s neck with a joyful sob. They sat in deep embrace for a very long time as the soldiers in the other room packed their things to leave. Shion rubbed Kawari’s back, trying to bring peace to his poor soul. It felt so very wrong. Kawari didn’t feel real. With a shudder, Shion was reminded of the feeling of being surrounded by cooling dead bodies, some with life still left in their features even though their hearts had stopped. Kawari was one of them. It was too late. He wasn’t living even though he was still so very warm.

\--

The water tower seemed like the perfect base. Over the next couple days, boxes and boxes of supplies were carted in, stolen or donated from around the city. Armed with nothing but a book of instructions, Shion set about organizing the crowds into assembly lines, creating dozens of small bombs to line the border walls.

But that couldn’t be the end of it. The wall was just a symptom. The border gangs were still an issue, and with them still intact, things would only get worse when they destroyed the wall. Not only would they rebuild, but the drug trafficking would take over the Mountain Village economy. You’d see it on every corner, as blatant as selling fruit. These people owned the government, so simply blowing up their wall wasn’t enough. They had to find their base and wipe it off the map. They needed to instal a legitimate government, in cooperation with No. 6. Then of course, there was No. 6. Shion and his associates had committed treason against their city, and there was always the chance that No. 6 would blame the Mountain People instead. This wasn’t a demonstration. This was invasion and acquisition. It was war.

Nezumi strolled into the water tower, looking around. He whistled, impressed. “Damn, this is some high level crime shit, Shion. You’ve got yourself a mafia. Wow. Bomb assembly lines… assault weapons just lying on tables… Where do you keep your bricks of cocaine? I think they’d look nice in that corner over there.” He pointed vaguely.

Shion stormed over to him. “What are you doing here? You can’t just walk in like that.”

Nezumi looked surprised. “Oh, I can’t? I’m sorry, I thought I just did. I must have been mistaken. Granted, there wasn’t a welcome party, but nobody shot me in the head either, so… I figured everything was cool.”

Shion scowled, turning to address the soldiers. “Everyone! Don’t let this guy in here. If you see him walk in, beat him up and take his leg off. Then turn him out.”

Someone looked up from their task, confused. “What… like now? He’s already here.”

“Take his leg off?” someone else spoke up. “What the hell?”

Shion wanted to punch something. “Yes, now! And this leg!” He kicked Nezumi’s left leg hard, sending it skittering across the floor.

Nezumi leaned against the wall, eyes wide. “Whoa, dick move. I just came to tell you about the attack from the east, but if you’re gonna be such a bitch about it, I’ll just fucking let you die. Piece of shit cheating ho. Damn.” He gestured at one of the people at the assembly line. “Can you bring me that? I need it to walk and such.”

Looking unsure, the person stood and brought him the prosthetic.

“Thanks. Shit, Shion, what happened to you?” He reattached the leg carefully. “You’re angry. I don’t like it.”

“What do you mean, attacks from the east?” Shion squared his shoulders.

Nezumi laughed. “Hell no, not after you just kicked my leg off. I came to tell the news to _nice_ Shion. The one who cries when someone’s mean to me. Not this angsty ball of rage.” He crossed his arms. “Say you’re sorry.”

“What the fuck?!” Shion glared at him.

“Go wash your mouth!” Nezumi looked mock-offended. “Someone’s been staying up past his bedtime.”

“I’m not sixteen anymore!” Shion shoved him. “And you’re not exactly the same person either. It’s like someone’s loosened a screw in your jaw, and now you just spray out random bullshit insults. I don’t wanna deal with you.”

Nezumi’s expression darkened. He stepped away from the wall and strode towards the door. “Fine. No more bullshit, then. That’s your funeral. My people are coming from the east to take you out. They’ll be here in a minute, then we’re gone. I’m going back to No. 6, to move the fight onto enemy soil. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Why?” Shion asked doubtfully.

Nezumi shrugged. “Call it nostalgia. I thought I could give you a chance.” There was a loud noise outside. “Oh well. They’re here.”

“Grab your weapons!” Shion commanded, grabbing Nezumi by the arm. “Everyone barricade the door, and get to the roof. We can take them out from there.” There was a huge flurry of motion as chains and furniture and cinderblocks were made into a barricade. Then, the whole place seemed to shudder as feet ran up metal stairs to the roof.

Nezumi held Shion back once everyone was gone. “Don’t go to the roof.”

Shion jerked away. “Why do you care?”

“Human error,” Nezumi explained. “I hate you, but I don’t want you dead. Stay down here.”

“So you’re gonna let everyone else die? Inukashi’s up there!” Shion was stunned.

“Soldiers. They all chose to fight. This was war before you showed up, Shion. They knew that.” He glanced at the staircase as shots rang out.

“I have to help!” Shion cried, running towards the stairs. Nezumi grabbed him, and tossed him to the floor.

“You’re staying. I told you, if you’re in my life, then you are my life. Now you’re gonna sit here and pay the price for your stupidity while your friends die.” He grabbed a piece of wire from the assembly line, and tied Shion’s wrists. His voice shook. “I won’t let you die, Shion. Whatever it takes.”

Shion kicked fruitlessly. Nezumi just tied his ankles and stood to look down on him. “Let me go!” Shion shrieked. “You can’t do this!”

Emotionlessly, Nezumi kicked him in the side of the head. “Yes, I can.”

Shion’s head swum dizzily. “Stop this…” He struggled to stand. Nezumi just shoved him back to the ground where he landed hard and felt his right wrist break. Pain blossomed up his whole right side, and the room spun from his probable concussion.

“The more you fight, the more it’s gonna hurt. I’m saving your life. You think I like this?” A flash of anger ran across his otherwise blank features. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t watch you die!” He kicked Shion in the ribs, hard. Shion felt the breath leave his body, and he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. “This was your decision!” Nezumi shouted. “This is what you did to yourself when you came back! I told you to leave!” He kicked him in the thigh. “I wanted you gone! Now I have to restrain you just to keep you from running into gunfire!” He kicked him in the arm. “This is your fault. All of it.”

Shion could feel the bruises forming on his body. But worse than that, he realized Nezumi was right. This was his fault. He’d brought these people into this, so if they died, it was on him.

Nezumi knelt at his side. “I tried to warn you. I tried to help you. I was right, wasn’t I? I told you you couldn’t handle it, but you had something to prove. Well, you failed. Come with me.”

Tears streamed down Shion’s face as shots rang out from both sides.

“Come with me,” Nezumi said again. “I can get you out of this. It’s more than you deserve, but I’ll do that for you. Altruism, right, Shion? I can do it, too.”

A moment later, the gunfire stopped, and Shion broke down sobbing under the crushing realization that everyone was dead. Gently, Nezumi untied his wrists and ankles.

“Can you walk? Are your legs broken?” He helped Shion stand up.

“Just my wrist,” Shion gasped, staring down at the dark bruises that formed a swollen circle around both his wrists. It hurt, but not bad enough to make up for what he’d just done.

“Good.” Nezumi put a hand around his waist. “Are you going to come with me now?”

Before Shion could answer, several people came running down the stairs. “They’re gone! They left!” Relief and euphoria rushed through Shion’s battered body.

He and Nezumi shouted simultaneously, “What?!”

Another one nodded. “Four are dead, but twelve ran off.”

Shion turned with wide eyes. “How many of ours?”

“Seven.” A young girl hung her head. “And a few injured.”

Shion took off running up the stairs, barely feeling the pain he was in. The scene on the roof was bloody. It turned his stomach. People were crying and tending to each other, but most looked unharmed.

“Inukashi?!” Shion called out, searching through the mess of red through hazy vision.

“I’m okay,” came their response. “Help the others.”

Shion dropped to his knees in front of a young girl who had taken a bullet to the arm. She looked to be barely nineteen. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Yoiko,” she answered weakly. “I got shot?”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna be fine. Just in the arm. I can sew you back together.” Shion reassured. “Someone go grab the first aid kits from down stairs! As many as you can carry!” He applied pressure to Yoiko’s arm, trying to stop the bleeding. “It’s okay, I’ve done this before.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Yoiko mused. “I think I’m okay.” As she said it, she broke out into a cold sweat.

Shion shook his head firmly. “You’re in shock. It’s gonna take some time to recover.”

“Hmm… That sucks…” Yoiko’s eyes were losing focus. “I can feel it, you know. Elyurias. She’s taking care of me.”

“Dimethyltryptamine, adrenaline, and endorphins. It isn’t god. Stay focussed.” Shion remembered reading about how near death experiences could lead to an extremely potent combination of these chemicals, to the point where the person would report seeing their god. Someone handed Shion a needle and thread. “Stay still. I don’t have anesthetic.”

“I don’t need it,” Yoiko looked at him seriously. “I’m making my own anesthetic right now.” As she said it, she passed out. It made it easier to stitch her up, at least. Shion got around to two other people, sewing up the little holes that peppered their bodies. Afterwards, he and the uninjured collected the dead. They carried them down the spiral staircase, and laid them out, eyes closed, on the floor.

Nezumi was still there, sitting on a table. Shion turned to him. “Is there a particular Mao death ritual?”

Nezumi nodded. “Burn them. Someone will sing.”

Someone grabbed Shion’s hand, making him jump. “Oh, Kawari. Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I didn’t get shot.”

“You seriously didn’t check on him until now?” Nezumi asked incredulously. “Kawari, child, this is not your soulmate.”

Kawari scowled. “Oh, and I suppose he’s yours? You junkie whore. I’ve never once hit him, can you say that?”

Nezumi placed a hand over his heart. “Ouch. But touché. Don’t worry, I’m not jealous. I know who Shion belongs to.”

“Can we not?! With this shit?!” someone in the crowd spoke up. “We’re sick of your drama. People are dead!”

“Touché again.” Nezumi hopped up from the table, walking over to Shion. “Let’s end this now.” In the space of a heartbeat, Nezumi pulled a gun out of his pocket, and pressed it to Shion’s temple. “Good luck, and goodbye,” he addressed the crowd as they gasped in horror. “I won’t say you’re the most inept terrorist organization I’ve ever met. I’m thinking it real hard, but I won’t say it. I’m taking him with me. Sorry we had to kill your people, but you killed ours, so fuck you anyway. I can’t let people as stupid as you have Shion. Like I said, I know who he belongs to. So I’m taking him back.” He wrapped an arm around Shion’s chest from behind, shielding himself. “Take down the barricade.”

Several people scrambled to move away the tables and chains blocking the door.

Inukashi stepped forward. “Are you insane? What are you doing this for?”

Nezumi’s eyes darkened. “Things are about to happen. I won’t let him get killed in the process.” Slowly, Nezumi backed out the door of the cylindrical building, Shion helpless but to follow as shock numbed the pain in his broken bones. Nezumi leaned to whisper in Shion’s ear as a truck pulled up behind them, “You shouldn’t have come back. I told you to stay away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay.
> 
> So I was thinking about Nezumi and Kawari, and how they haven't really had any extended interaction. Then I wrote this bonus for you:
> 
> The Forest People were anything but isolated. They maintained strong friendships with the people of the City of Roses, as well as their neighbors the Mountain People. Musuko had long learned to tell the difference between who was Mao and who was “Other.” He figured he could spot a Mao person out of a crowd of a hundred people.
> 
> That’s why he was excited to meet the Mountain People for the first time. Just four years old, he sat on his father’s shoulders as they hiked through the forest. All the children were buzzing about meeting their cousins. They’d been freshly scrubbed and braided just before they set out in the hopes of making a good first impression. Musuko wore his hair in six tight cornrows that gave him a headache. Every time he tried to pick them looser, his mother would slap his hands and tell him to stop fidgeting.
> 
> Their arrival at the Mountain Village was everything he’d hoped. Houses built right into the sides of the mountains extended up to fields of grains and vegetables that seemed to touch the sky. Several fire pits were already cooking dinner, and children and dogs were swimming in an icy cold river that tumbled between the mountains and valleys.
> 
> “Who are you?” A voice from behind him asked.
> 
> Musuko spun around to find himself less than an inch away from a boy about his age. Musuko frowned. He didn’t look like family. The bridge of his nose was flatter, and his cheekbones were more prominent. He looked like “Other.”
> 
> “I’m Change,” the boy introduced himself. “You guys’re the Forest People? Do you really live in tree houses?”
> 
> “Are you Mao?” Musuko asked bluntly, taking a step away from the overly-close Change.
> 
> Change looked confused. “Haha, yeah! You’re silly.” He dropped down to his hands and knees and crawled up to Musuko, grinning. “Why, do I look like a dog?”
> 
> “You look like the Other people. The not-Mao people.” Musuko made a face when Change licked his knee. “Gross. You look human, get up.”
> 
> Change smiled at him patronizingly. “Human and Mao are the same thing. They’re just words for the same thing.”
> 
> “No they aren’t!” Musuko protested defensively. “There’s other people. They have like… different colors. Hair and eyes and skin.”
> 
> Change nodded slowly, a misty look in his eyes. “No, there aren’t. Oh, you mean the devil!” He held out his hands like claws and growled. “Yeah! White hair and white skin and red eyes and pink scar!” He dashed away suddenly, returning with a mushy cherry and a handful of ashes. He tossed the ashes in his hair, smearing them all over, and tied up his braids so his hair looked short. Then, he mushed the cherry juice into his palm and painted his face with a representation of the all-too-familiar scar. He rubbed the rest of the juice around his eyes and shouted. “No more bees! No more bees!”
> 
> Musuko stared at him dully. A moment later, a Mountain Woman dashed over to Change, dusting off his hair and licking her fingers to wipe the juice from his face. “Change! What are you doing? That’s highly inappropriate.”
> 
> “Mama, he said real people look like this!” Change pointed at Musuko, not looking ashamed at all. “I wanna look like this!”
> 
> She glanced at Musuko momentarily before returning to her son. “Well, you can’t just believe everything everyone tells you. Do you want to end up like your sister?”
> 
> Change got quiet. “No, Mama.”
> 
> “Good boy.” She nodded. “Go get cleaned up, we’re about to eat.” She gave Musuko an exasperated look before walking off to rejoin her friends.
> 
> Musuko stomped his foot, kicking up a cloud of dust. People were so dumb… He couldn’t wait until he was older. Then people would listen. Then people would believe him. Someday, he’d return to the Mountain Village with a whole _herd_ of Other people. They’d be so surprised. He’d get all the people from the City of Roses, and they’d all come crashing in to prove to the Mountain People they were real.
> 
> Grinning at this fantasy, Musuko trotted over to his parents, ready to eat dinner.


	17. When a good man goes to war

A bumpy, blindfolded truck ride lead Shion far away. He was then guided into a cold building. It sounded like it was made of cement by the way his footsteps echoed. He seemed to be walking down a very long hallway. His wrists were cuffed, and Nezumi’s hand was on the back of his head, guiding him forward.

“Sorry about this,” Nezumi apologized, sounding distinctly not sorry. “But it’s the best I could do. They said they were going to kill you, but I convinced them you were a useful bargaining chip because of your weight in the government of No. 6.” He stopped leading Shion and walked away briefly to open a heavy sounding door. “This is a game for grown-ups, Shion. You can’t just run in guns blazing with a mouth as big as yours. You’ve stumbled into some dark shit.” He lead Shion through the door, and had him sit down on a metal seat. Shion couldn’t tell if it was a chair with no back, or a bench. “It’s not gonna go the way of No. 6. You’ve got civilians polarized. This is a tangled web of bullshit and lies where the bullshitters have money, and the liars have guns, and nobody has a conscience.” He took the blindfold off, and Shion blinked in the dim light, realizing he was in a prison cell. Nezumi gestured vaguely. “Sorry I broke your wrist.”

“Where am I?” Shion looked around curiously. Across from the cell was a cement wall that seemed to extend pretty far in both directions. There weren’t any other cells opposite him.

“Inside the wall,” Nezumi explained. “So, you know. If you blow it up, you die.” He stared down at Shion and smiled in a terrifyingly predatory way. “I’ll be back for you. Wait here.” He stepped out and locked the door.

A terrible cold filled Shion from the inside out. It licked icily inside his chest like frozen fire and made his fingers numb. Even his expression was frozen. His eyes stared through the bars of the cell deadly, and his brow set low. The only warm part of him was his broken wrist, which throbbed dully with a pain that went up to his jaw.

Somewhere between a minute and an hour later, Nezumi returned. He stood outside the bars with a key in hand. “Come here.” He gestured Shion over. Shion didn’t move. Nezumi rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna take off your cuffs, idiot. I have the key.”

For another long moment, Shion just stared. “Do you think this is funny?”

“No, I think it’s fucking stupid.” Nezumi smirked. “I think your entire plan was impulsive and destined to fail.”

Shion’s expressionless stare was harsher than any glare could be. “You’re not doing me a favor.”

“Sure I am,” Nezumi countered. “I’m saving your life by putting you in here.”

“Kill me,” Shion said dully.

Nezumi looked momentarily thrown. “Just come over here so I can take your cuffs off.”

“I’m not your pet,” Shion intoned. “I’m not going to jump to your every command.”

“Not a command.” Nezumi raised an eyebrow. “An offer.” He hesitated, then unlocked the cell and stepped inside. “Alright, I’ll come to you, then.”

Shion didn’t miss his chance. He swung his arms over his head, which popped his shoulder out of place with a painful _crack._ He reached out, ignoring the pain, and shoved Nezumi against the wall with his handcuff chain against Nezumi’s neck, threatening to choke him.

Nezumi looked shocked. “Shion!”

Shion pressed the chain tighter, making Nezumi gasp and cough. “I love you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

Nezumi kneed Shion in the crotch and shoved him away. “What the hell?” he gasped, massaging his neck.

Shion crumpled in on himself in pain, tears coming to his eyes. Angrily, he blinked them away and glared at Nezumi. Quickly, he jumped back to action and wrapped the chain fully around Nezumi’s neck, kicking him hard in the stomach as he did. He pulled with his wrists, tightening the noose. “I kill you, I get out, I kill your people, I go home.” Rage crushed his conscience, and suddenly, everything was so clear. This was a game, and he was going to win. Kill Nezumi, escape. Kill the border gangs, incite mass emigration. End the civil war before it really began. A thousand Mao immigrants in No. 6 was nothing. A new district in the mountains was a huge advancement. Or even… No. 7. It could be done. With amendments to the Babylon contract, or no! With an entire new convention, this world could get back to running as it should! They could reclaim burned and putrefied landscape. They could reverse the damage of climate change and bring about a new Eden. If he could prevent the civil war, he could prevent world war. He could bring peace and equality and _utopia._ Wasn’t the idea alone worth the life of this one rebel gangster?

“Shion!” Nezumi gasped, grabbing his arm. Red rings formed around his eyes as he slowly ran out of oxygen and the pressure built.

He couldn’t do it. He slammed Nezumi’s head against the ground, knocking him out cold before loosening the noose. He unchained his hands before making sure Nezumi was still breathing. He was. Shion nodded to himself, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to think things through. Next. What was next? “Escape,” Shion muttered to himself, cuffing Nezumi’s wrists and struggling to lift his deadweight. He managed to get Nezumi’s arms around his neck from behind, so he was carrying him in an awkward piggyback. He slid the door to the cell open carefully and glanced down the empty hallways. He supposed the best way to go was the way he had come. Nezumi’s feet dragged along the ground behind him as Shion set off down the curved hall, anxiously watching the disappearing point for someone to jump out at him.

Nobody did. Eventually, he came across a door. It was metal and heavy-looking. He could hear voices on the other side, saying indistinct things in angry tones. Shion briefly wondered what would happen if he just walked through. He’d probably be shot, and Nezumi, too. That, or they’d grab him and put him back in the cell. It seemed like there was no choice but to wait them out.

Resolved, Shion walked back down the hall just enough so that nobody would see him if he burst through the door. He laid Nezumi down on the floor with a grunt and set about waiting. Every so often, he snuck back to the door to check if things were quiet. He must have waited a couple hours before anything changed. At that point, Nezumi was stirring.

“What you gotta do tha’ for…?” he slurred, blinking open his eyes. “Oww….”

“Shut up,” Shion whisper-yelled at him. “We’re getting out of here.”

Nezumi looked around, but his eyes were out of focus. “The correctional facility? Oh, good…” He blinked sleepily.

Shion rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sure.” There were no more voices behind the door. Shion steeled himself. It was now or never. “Can you stand?”

“I can’t feel one of my legs!” Nezumi looked terrified.

Shion just stared, annoyed. “But can you stand, or do I have to hold you?”

Nezumi squinted at him. “You got shot in the heart…”

Shion sighed, grabbing one of Nezumi’s arms and pulling him into a sitting position. “No, I didn’t.”

Nezumi moaned at the sudden movement. “I’m like... one-third sure you did.” He blinked dazedly. “A long time ago.”

“Nope.” Shion helped him stand. “Someone else, maybe? I’m still alive, you see.”

Nezumi leaned on Shion heavily. “No, you came back to life.” His voice was thick and difficult to understand.

“You have a concussion,” Shion informed him, approaching the door. He pressed his ear against it one last time before he opened it cautiously. The room beyond was void of people, but full of stacks of boxes containing grenades, ammunition, gunpowder, and even guns. With a victorious grin, Shion noticed a small, four wheeled vehicle in the corner. It had a small truck bed in the back. Shion dumped Nezumi in the passenger seat unceremoniously before setting about stealing as much as he could. Truck loaded, he simply drove out the door. It was far easier than it should have been.

“Where are we going?” Nezumi asked groggily. “I’m tired…”

“You’re whiney,” Shion said with a frown. “Back to the water tower, I guess.”

“Okay.” Nezumi laid his head on Shion’s shoulder. “You drive.”

“...Yeah.” Shion took all the backroads, staying in the shadows as much as possible. When he approached the water tower, his heart sunk. Maybe this was why it had been so easy to escape…

Crowds of people were standing around the base of the tower, staring up at the top. There, the remaining emigrant soldiers stood staring down at the crowds. Driving closer, Shion made out a distinct chant issuing from the crowd. “This is Babel! This is Babel!” He parked behind a building and carefully edged around the back of the water tower, Nezumi’s arm draped over his neck. He carefully deposited him against a wall and snuck in the back of the tower.

Shion ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. “What’s going on?” he called out when he reached the roof.

Everyone turned around in surprise. “Shion!” Kawari exclaimed, running forward and hugging him. “You escaped!” His eyes widened. “Is Nezumi dead?”

“No, but I think I gave him brain damage.” Shion looked over the side of the tower to where Nezumi was slumped, looking very unalive. “He’s down there.”

Kawari looked almost happy. He attempted to repress the smile on his face, but he failed. “Oh. That sucks for him.” He glanced briefly over the edge too. “So, the crowds. One of the major border gangs just left for No. 6- um, Nezumi’s people, I guess. So the people down there are our supporters. The one’s who don’t want war with No. 6. They want to address the issues of poverty and disease caused by No. 6, though. Especially since they have no access to the ocean anymore.” Kawari pursed his lips, looking unsure. “Um… Maybe you’re not the best spokesperson, though. A lot of Mao are very religious, and… I mean, it’s gonna scare them that they’re following the devil.”

Shion thought about it. “No, you know what? I think I’m perfect.” He walked forward to the front of the tower. A thin ladder extended over the edge and lead down to a platform about halfway down the tower. Shion climbed down it so he could better address the crowd. “Mao people!” There was a collective gasp as people saw him. “Your government is corrupt. Your representatives are owned by the gangs and the wealthy! What was once your open sea, your endless mountains, are now cement and steel! You are in a cage!” He bellowed down to the people, who were still staring at him in awe. “We can challenge the ruling class. We can overcome the bonds of No. 6. We can join forces with Babylon and create a world in which Mao people have a say! We can take back the mountains, we can take back the forests, we can take back the air in the sky! Who remembers the City of Roses?”

There was a collective call of agreement.

“It’s been destroyed!” Shion shouted. “It was destroyed in just the way this Mountain Village will be destroyed. By the walls! We can take down the walls. We can prevent civilian death and poverty and disease. We can rise together against the border gangs and prevent civil war! We are the masses. We are poor, we are hungry, and we are sick and dying! But we are still strong. We are MASSES! We are NUMEROUS! We can take them!”

The crowd cheered.

“We will rise against corrupt authority and put in place a system that benefits the many, not just the wealthy few. We can take them!” The crowd cheered as Shion climbed back up the ladder to the top of the water tower. Kawari helped him up, eyes full of awe.

“That was… inspirational.” He shifted his weight like he wasn’t sure what to do. “Um… Can we, though?”

“Even if we can’t, we will,” Shion said firmly. “Do you have a first aid kit? My wrist is broken, and it hurts a lot.”

“Oh, sure.” Kawari took off down the stairs. Shion followed him, figuring he should bring Nezumi inside before someone stepped on him.

Kawari sorted through medical supplies while Shion dragged Nezumi inside and began unloading the stolen weapons from the truck. “Hey, you know, if Nezumi’s people are gone, we can go steal all their stuff,” Shion mentioned as Kawari bound his hand in a splint and handed him a couple ibuprofen tablets.

“Yeah.” Kawari looked nervous. “Um, Shion… About the dead people…”

“We can build a pyre,” Shion assured. Outside the wall. We can take the wall from the inside.” He reached inside one of Nezumi’s pockets, taking out a set of keys. “We’ll have the entire city surrounded.” He grinned. “With Nezumi’s gang gone, we can easily take control.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I am here to inform you that Cassady was 100% qualified sober when she wrote the bonus. She didn’t, in fact, hotbox her room with her gay roommates while they had a gymnastics competition. Because what kind of person would do such a thing? No way. Cassady would way rather be here writing No. 6 fanfiction than doing all of that awesome shit.  
> (Literally, they are the best roommates ever. I’m so in love. I have both pictures and videos- I can fucking prove they exist.)
> 
> Once, everything was chill. The house, the weather, and even the people were chill. Nezumi was chill for once too. Not that he’d ever admit it. He was slunched on the couch, trying to look… menacing… with his three pet mice on his lap. He scrunched his face up like a five year old and folded his arms tightly.
> 
> “Shion is so dumb,” he said. “With his dumb hair and his dumb eyes and his dumbalicios fat ass. Hate that guy.”
> 
> But soon, at nine in the afternoon, Shion walked in the door with his eyes the size of the moon. He had like… flowers or something. What grows in West Block? Haha, nothing grows, most of them die off as infants.
> 
> And then Nezumi’s mood all changed and his heart doki-doki’d and he stuttered over his words. “W-w-welcome back, loser.”
> 
> “I brought you flowers!” Shion beamed with his giant shojo eyes.
> 
> Well, let me tell you, Nezumi just about bust a nut hearing all that shit. He scowled, but even the whole room could tell that underneath he was smiling. Idk why we got all these specific descriptions of facial expressions. Whenever I try to do them in a mirror, I just look constipated.
> 
> So Nezumi looked like he was constipated with love. And Shion was just fucking oblivious his eyes so big but he can’t see shit.
> 
> And then Kanda says, “Bro, if I was gay, if I was gay bro, I’d suck your dick right now.”
> 
> So Allen blushes and laughs, “Haha, same bro, same.” And they curl up real close on the couch, and stare at the fire, I guess. I don’t think they have a TV, so are they just staring at the fire the whole time they sit there?
> 
> Oh, no. They sat on the couch, gazing into each other’s eyes like it was the air, the water, and the holy spirit all togethre… (?)
> 
> Gently, carefully, oh so chastely Kanda leans in and kisses Shiro’s face and they smooch forever. Their tongues battle for dominance, like snakes in a… snake… pile...
> 
> When they finally break apart, gasping for breath with kiss-swollen lips pouting seductively, they were happy. Because they knew they was soulmates from birth and they would endlessly and obsessively lust over each other for now until the last chapter.
> 
> Kuroh frowns, and tries to look cool. “You suck at that,” he said unconvincingly.
> 
> “Well, I guess you’ll have to teach me then,” Shiro purred.
> 
> That’s when Nekokashi bursts through the door like, “No! My baby ears cannot allow this!” And Kuroh thinks it’s funny, but Shion is so embarrassed.
> 
> THE END


	18. Don Quixote

New recruits joined Babel every day. Weeks later, red and yellow clad people patrolled the top of the wall and kept watch from the water tower. Their next step was clear: find and destroy the cartels. Babel was letting people in and out at night with stringent searches, but as they kept the gates open without security during the day, there was still major drug traffic to and from No. 6. Shion was nervous. His mother hadn’t shown up, but he couldn’t imagine what was happening back home. Every week, it seemed more and more people slipped into poverty as the economy crumbled under the hunger of No. 6 and the power of the cartels. Junkies ruled the streets, selling openly to the Mao population. It wasn’t legal, but the internal drug crisis was out of Shion’s control. Months into the Babel occupation, the streets were divided by color. Orange flags with a black number 8 flew in the east, signaling _Hachi_ territory, who ruled the heroin market. The west was claimed by silver and gold stripes, brazenly displaying _Kinjin,_ who ruled the banks. North displayed deep purple, with no symbol at all. They called themselves _Sen_ and sold mass quantities of heroin and cocaine within the walls, as well as fined people they found outside the wall without their permission under threat of death. South was shipping. They had boats docked way out in the harbor and controlled the fishing industry. Shion was pretty sure they were also cooking various drugs out on the boats, but he wasn’t sure. They called themselves _Umiya_ and had flags of light blue with a dark blue circle in the middle. Babel surrounded it all, living and working within and on top of the walls. They also still held bases in Nezumi’s house and the water tower. They were the functional police,and had massive weapon superiority to any other gang.

The real police, who still masqueraded as authority in the streets occasionally arrested some kid with a small amount of drugs. It was security theater, but it was effective in that people were afraid to be arrested as an example. All they really did was keep the deals underground, where more dangerous things could happen.

Shion was living in Nezumi’s house with him, guarded 24/7 by a group of bodyguards. Shion went outside often to deal with business, but Nezumi was under house arrest. They had installed bars on all the windows, and even closed off the air vents. Kawari and Inukashi lived in the apartment too. Nezumi and Inukashi had their own rooms, and Shion stayed with Kawari, continuing their charade of a relationship.

The people in the four floors below had moved out, afraid for their lives living right below the most senior mobster in the city. As a result, Babel had the entire building. It housed their twenty-four original soldiers, who took shifts guarding the entrance for an hour a day each.

Shion spoke from the platform on the water tower every day. It was the most dangerous thing he did. He was an easy target and in full public view. He always had at least ten armed guards watching the crowds carefully and patrolling the wall behind him.

The rest of the time, he preferred to stay inside. It was safer that way. Although it was constantly in the back of his mind that he was keeping Nezumi prisoner, it felt strangely domestic at times. Even with Inukashi and Kawari there.

“What do you think’s going on in No. 6?” Nezumi asked, lounging on the couch.

Shion ignored him. He was constantly trying to start fights these days.

“Why do you think your mom and the children haven’t showed up? Do you think they’re dead? Do you think there’s war?” He gazed at Shion dully. “What’s your plan, Shion? So, you’ve occupied the village. What next? Who do you go after? The border gangs? Which one? The government? Which part? The police? The lawmakers? The chief? This is starting to seem more like invasion than intervention. Maybe ditch Babel and just start calling yourself No. 7. That’s what you want, right? To reopen Babylon? To make amendments to the world constitution? In the meantime, you’ve still got people starving because Umiya controls the sea. Not as simple as No. 6 was, is it? You can’t just break down the wall. This is more than ignorance. This is more than gang violence. This is six distinct governments all claiming to be the true leader. What do you do, Shion? What are you going to do?”

Recently, Shion had been slipping into depression. He was overwhelmed. He felt inept. He couldn’t see an end to the war. With hundreds of people wearing red and yellow, calling his name and begging for answers, he felt an incredible responsibility that he wasn’t sure he could live up to.

Recently, too, every order he had given felt embarrassingly impulsive. Ruling by gut instinct wasn’t something Shion wanted to do. _Ruling_ wasn’t something Shion wanted to do.

Maybe Nezumi had been right all along. Maybe this wasn’t an issue for the Mountain Village. Maybe it was an issue for No. 6. Maybe he should have dealt with this at home.

His idealistic self had run into this issue guns blazing, dragging along dozens of people behind him. He’d thought he could change the world. He’d thought this was a problem mirrored to what No. 6 had been. He was just doing it all again, right? This was his specialty. Breaking down walls and restoring governments. He’d done it at sixteen, so why couldn’t he do it at twenty-eight? Or, no… He was twenty-nine now, wasn’t he? He’d forgotten his own birthday a couple months ago…

He squared his shoulders. It was time. He needed to end this pathetic standoff with the cartels. He needed to do something he should have done all along, even though it went against everything he believed in.

“I need help,” he told Nezumi sadly.

Nezumi laughed “No shit. You’ve really--”

“From No. 6,” Shion interrupted him. “You’re right. This is invasion. I’m bringing in the army.”

Nezumi paled and stood. “You’re kidding.”

Shion shook his head. “There are only two options. Either this city destroys itself and it turns into No. 6, or we destroy it and turn it into No. 7.” He smiled weakly. “You wanted preservation of culture, right? This is how we do it. No. 6 can come in and destroy the cartels along with Babel and the government, then from that wreckage we can establish a new government as we tear down the walls.”

“Or,” Nezumi began, striding over to Shion with a scowl. “We can take our army and attack No. 6, destroying the source of the cartel’s income. I won’t let you tear down my city.”

“And I won’t let you tear down mine,” Shion retorted. “My city is at peace, and yours is at war. Staging the fight here would create less trauma.”

“My city is poor and yours is rich! You could rebuild so much faster!” Nezumi’s fists clenched.

“We’ll help out,” Shion said absently, thinking through his next step. “Kawari!”

“Mm?” Kawari stumbled out of their room sleepily. “‘S eight in the morning…”

“Pack,” Shion commanded. “We’re going back to No. 6.”

Kawari yawned. “Why?”

“Because I said so.” Shion rolled his eyes. “And grab me the sat phone, okay? And make sure we have enough supplies to make it back.”

“What, now?” Kawari squinted, still trying to wake up.

“No, next week.” Shion huffed. “Of course now!” He strode to knock on Inukashi’s door. “Hey! You awake?”

A low growl issued through Inu’s door.

“Alright, well, can you babysit Nezumi for a while? I have to go back to No. 6.” Shion crossed his arms, annoyed at everyone.

“No!” Inukashi barked. “He’ll escape if you leave. He only stays because you’re here.”

“Well…” Shion frowned. “That and the armed guards.”

Inukashi cracked open their door, scowling. “You think armed guards are going to keep Nezumi locked up? What kind of idiot are you?”

Nezumi smirked.

“Then…” Shion ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated. “Lock him in the cell inside the wall. I don’t know, do something. I’m not gonna take him with me.”

“Aww, why not?” Nezumi wrapped his arms around Shion’s waist from behind. “Could be a roadtrip for the memory books. Me, you, and your ‘boyfriend’ all in one car for weeks.”

Shion shoved him away. “Stop. You’re not coming.”

“I dunno, Shion.” Kawari walked forward. “Do you really trust him here alone? He can do a lot of damage by himself.”

“Wow, even the substitute wants me to come.” Nezumi grinned, patting Kawari on the shoulder. “You know that’s what his name means, right?”

“It means change…” Kawari scowled. “Because my older sister--”

“I could literally not care less, Replacement.” Nezumi cut him off. “So, Shion, what’s gonna happen?”

Shion wanted to scream at everyone. “Fine! Pack.”

“Oh, yay! We’re going on vacation!” Nezumi bounced off to his room.

Anger boiled in Shion’s chest. “I hate him so much…”

“Shion-” Kawari tried to placate.

“SO MUCH!” Shion shouted, storming off to his room to pack his things.

A few hours later, they were on their way. Shion was driving, and Nezumi was in the passenger’s seat. Kawari sat in the back, along with Inukashi, who had tagged along.

The road had been cleared, which was a disturbing sign. One of the cartels must have done it. It meant their trip would be much shorter than two weeks, though, which was a good thing.

“Remember in On The Road-” Nezumi began.

“Don’t.” Shion sighed, not wanting to cause drama. “Do not bring up that book.”

Nezumi was silent for a while. Then, “Like, if you’re Dean and Kawari is Carlo and I’m-”

_“Don’t.”_ Shion emphasized. “This is a small space and I don’t want to start anything. Plus, if you’re about to say you’re Marylou-”

_“Safu_ was Marylou.” Nezumi grinned, and Shion punched him in the ribs as hard as he could. “Ow… Trying to discuss classic books, and you gotta be getting violent…”

“No chance in hell your whole point is to discuss the characterizations in On The Road.” Shion scowled at him. “You’re trying to call me a liar and a cheater, and you’re not being subtle.”

Nezumi looked mock offended. “I was not! I was trying to call you a bisexual sociopath.”

Shion stopped the car suddenly, and everyone lurched forward. “Inukashi, come drive.” Shion unbuckled and climbed into the back seat. They switched places silently and then kept driving as Shion fumed in the back with Kawari.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s sober? It’s me. I’m gonna write a good one this time. Also- I realized I never told you what Kawari's name means. It means change. He was the kid Musuko met in that bonus back then.
> 
> Nezumi stood at the back door of the theater, wrapped tightly in a sweater that he was beginning to grow out of rapidly. He was fourteen, and his voice was dropping. He was terrified. He stood in the dust and the cold and the loud chatter of theater patrons and he shivered. The temperature wasn’t the problem. The sweater he had taken from Shion was warm enough. He was scared. Well and truly scared of the future. He’d always been the petite slender little ingenue, and now he was beginning to look more like a slim but muscular adult male. He felt his flat chest absently, wondering what he was going to do.
> 
> “Eve,” a raspy female voice called from around the corner.
> 
> Nezumi looked instinctively, used to the name by now. “Hello?”
> 
> “Hey, kid, I just wanted to say great show tonight.” An old woman in a blue shawl stepped out of the darkness and into the porchlight of the theater. She was smoking a long cigarette, and smelled like onions.
> 
> “Thanks,” Nezumi said dismissively. Women. They never wanted anything but to chat.
> 
> “Look me in the eyeball kid, I’m trying to tell you something here.” She took a step towards him, staring him down. “I think you’ve got talent. Real talent. Do you want to be more than a whore?”
> 
> That got Nezumi’s attention. “Why? What do you mean?”
> 
> She grinned toothlessly. “I run a small troupe of singers who travel all over performing for folks. You seem like you’d be a good fit.”
> 
> Nezumi’s eyes widened, hope pounding in his chest. “Yeah?”
> 
> “Yeah.” She clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re in No. 6 for the night. Well… that’s to say we’re in West Block. But our usual base is in No. 2. You could catch a plane with me.”
> 
> Oh… Nezumi was conflicted. “Wait, you mean I’d leave West Block?”
> 
> “Forever and always. That voice of yours is your ticket out of these slums. What do you say?” She ashed her cigarette on the ground, where a spark flickered and died.
> 
> Forever… That meant giving up his dream of taking down No. 6. That meant leaving the country of his birth to live in some foreign land. Not that travel was bad, Nezumi loved travel. Still, if it meant leaving No. 6… “I…” He started weakly.
> 
> “What, don’t tell me you wanna stay in this hellhole? With the mites and the people it’s ugh.” She gestured at the air like that made her point. It kind of did.
> 
> “I just… Can’t leave No. 6.” His shoulders drooped, resigning himself to his obsession.
> 
> “You still hoping for citizenship? No chance in hell. You’re gonna die out here, kid. I know you’re a guy, and you’re gonna get bigger. How long do you think this whole ‘Eve’ thing is gonna last?” She smacked her lips around the cigarette, puffing with satisfaction.
> 
> Nezumi shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.” Frustration felt tight in his chest.
> 
> She gaped. “You’d turn down a job offer like this for… what? What’s keeping you here?”
> 
> Nezumi hugged his sweater closer. “Unfinished business. My business.”
> 
> She scowled at him. “Then you’re the stupidest fucking kid I’ve ever met. What, you got some boy here you’re crushing on? Got a family you want to be with? Idiotic. Always look out for yourself first. That’s the rule of survival in this world, kid. Too bad you were born dumb as a brick. You got a nice voice. Don’t let your ego stand in the way of your life.” She nodded once, and started to walk off.
> 
> Nezumi watched, terror flooding him. He wanted to follow. He really did. He wanted to go to No. 2 and sing and have food and money and safety… But he couldn’t. Not yet. He bit his tongue to kill his plea for her to come back. To sweep him off to another life. He swallowed the shame and anger with himself as she disappeared into the darkened streets. He couldn’t. It wasn’t time. Not yet.


	19. Two is company

Shion stood before the council, deep shame in his chest as they gave him an army. They had refused to assist when assistance was possible, but now a hundred people in armored vehicles with heavy weaponry charged towards the mountain village on his order, crushing shrubbery and small trees as they went. A cloud of drones darkened the sky above them, armed with things Shion didn’t want to know about.

In No. 6, things had gotten bad as well. Nezumi’s friends had successfully terrorized the city, putting the newly made addicts of No. 6 on display in an arena, fighting over bags of heroin, meth, or cocaine as the laughing gang tossed knives down to them. They had tied one man to a post, leaving him howling day and night as he went through the pain of withdrawal in the public eye. They were demonizing addicts, and thus demonizing drugs. It looked pretty effective on the surface, but Shion noticed the rise of rebellious teenagers and young adults experimenting with these harmful substances as a counter culture grew rapidly.

No. 6 had been so uniform before the wall fell, and the mixing of the outer districts came as a huge shock not only to the economy, but to the culture. People began searching for where they fit in, rather than just accepting the one true way of the old regime. Those who had been young during the fall now saw the mixing of cultures as nothing more than a fashion statement rather than a history of violence and oppression. So it was no surprise to Shion that they had accepted the cartel as a new culture to imitate or fight against. From the looks of it, many citizens of No. 6 were joining forces with the cartel, participating in the displays.

As the sun set, women rushed inside. Cartel members and No. 6 copycats patrolled the streets, whistling a familiar Mao tune to identify themselves. Shion went home, desperate to be drunk.

Inukashi rushed back to little Shion and their home with Karan and the Mao kids, who were doing mostly fine, while Nezumi followed adult Shion and Kawari, having nowhere else to go.

Shion opened a bottle of wine and collapsed on the couch, not bothering with a glass. He chugged as much as he could with one breath, then frowned at Nezumi and Kawari who were looking at him with humor and concern respectively. “I’m drinking all of this, and by the time I’m done, one of you needs to be gone. I don’t care who, just one of you get out of my face.”

Nezumi fell onto the couch next to him. “Should we fight to the death?”

“What do you mean, you don’t care who?” Kawari asked, offended.

Shion ignored them both, raising his middle finger to each of them in turn as he quickly made it to half the bottle. He wiped his mouth. “I’m halfway done. One or both of you better be fuckin’ gone within the next four minutes.”

“Four minutes?” Nezumi asked, laughing.

“I know how long one bottle takes me.” Shion scowled at him.

“Where am I supposed to go?” Kawari asked desperately. “I lived here with you before all this. This is my home.”

“Hm. Same, though.” Nezumi frowned. “I don’t know if this request is realistic, Shion.”

_“Four minutes,”_ Shion insisted, pretty drunk already. “I hate both of you right now, and I can only do hate sex with exactly one person at a time. Or neither. Both of you can fuck off, and I’ll go pass out on my own.”

Kawari looked heartbroken. “I… What did I do wrong?” He sat down on the couch next to Shion, taking his hand. “You hate me? What did I do?”

“Fucking _that!”_ Shion pulled his hand away, irrational anger fueled by alcohol bubbling in his chest. “Why are you so clingy? Do you need to be constantly validated in order to survive?” Oh, this was probably bad. This was probably really bad. He should stop talking for sure. “Why would you cut your hair? It’s just a plea for attention. You killed like… one dude. Fucking whatever…” He was slurring a little. “And for a good re...reason. Slef… Self defense. So y-y-you know? Chill. One dude. I’ve killed so many people! So many!” He gestured vaguely at Nezumi. “An’ he killed more than me. Look at his hair. It’s down to his ass. Swear, he hasn’t cut it since I seen him back when the wall… sorta broke… bombs and bee tornadoes and such… But you did none uh that.”

Kawari was crying. He buried his face in his hands. “I… I’m sorry…”

“Don’ fuckin’ apologize!” Shion growled. “I’m being a dick to you! Get angry! Hit me!” He grabbed one of Kawari’s limp hands, shaking it violently. “I’ll hit you! I’d do that so fast! I swear to god, say one more fucking thing about feelings and I’ll--”

“Ohhkay, wino. I think you’re done.” Nezumi took the mostly empty bottle from his hand. “Someone needs a nap.”

Shion turned on Nezumi, hurt and anger spilling out. “Why would you leave me?” His lip trembled. “You left for so long! I trusted you! You said you’d come back, and you left me! I loved you!”

“We’ve had this conversation, Shion.” Nezumi tried to talk him down. “Think you can make it to bed alone?”

“I love you so much, and you don’t give a shit about me. You just want to keep me on the line, waiting for the day we can do happily ever after, which is never.” He leaned into Nezumi’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Nezumi’s waist.

“God damn, you’re wasted. Do you really have that low a tolerance?” He peeled Shion off of him.

“Shion- we need to talk,” Kawari began.

“I don’t want to talk to you!” Shion cried. “I don’t want to have some sappy, emotional conversation about where our relationship is going. I just started a war. I’m responsible for the deaths of so many people now. I don’t fucking care about your feelings!”

Kawari stood. “I think we should break up. And I think _you_ should leave.”

Nezumi agreed. “You know what, I’m with him. Let’s go back to our old room. You have a car, right? Let me drive you.”

Shion felt betrayed by both of them. “This is _my apartment._ I don’t want to go!”

“Yeah, it’s mine too,” Kawari countered. “And I don’t want to share it with you. That really hurt, what you said, Shion. I know you’re angry and stressed and drunk, but it’s not okay to say things like that to me ever. So I need you to leave, and I don’t want to see you for a while.”

Shion wanted to scream. “Stop being so mature! Why won’t you fight me?!” He lunged towards the passive boy, only to be restrained by Nezumi. “Why won’t you ever fight me?!”

Kawari sighed around his tears. “I don’t like fighting, Shion. And I really don’t like fighting you. I love you, and I respect you, so I don’t want to hate you. Why don’t you go with Nezumi? I know you like him better than me.” He wiped his eyes and walked towards their bedroom. “And… one more thing… If you’ve been cheating on me with him… Just don’t tell me, okay? I don’t want to know.” He disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“Let’s go.” Nezumi took him by both hands and pulled him up off the couch. Shion swayed, drunker than he thought he’d be.

“I’m killing your family…” Shion muttered, leaning on Nezumi for support. “I’m gonna kill everyone. And you’re gonna die, then I’m gonna kill myself and there won’t be anyone left to fuck up the world anymore.”

“I’m killing your family, too, you know.” Nezumi lead him towards the door. “But you were right. It’s okay for now. We balance each other, don’t we? Even through the tragedies.”

Shion nodded, sighing as they walked out the door and took the elevator down to the parking lot. Silently, he let Nezumi sit him down and strap him into the passenger’s seat before the two took off into the night toward the room Shion had been so carefully avoiding for thirteen years.

\--

Morning hurt, but less than Shion had expected it to. He groaned and sat up. “Wha’timeizit?”

“Twelve.” Nezumi was sitting on the couch, reading. “So, good afternoon.”

“Mmm…” Shion looked around. “Oh. We’re here.”

“Mhm. Pleasant memories, huh?” He sounded sarcastic, but Shion agreed.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m really thirsty.”

“I’d expect so.” Nezumi closed his book, and stood up, grabbing a glass of water he had prepared. “You lost quite a lot of fluid. Still can’t handle your alcohol, huh?” He handed the glass to Shion, who drained it gratefully.

“I drank an entire bottle in like six minutes. I’d say that’s pretty good.” He handed the glass back to Nezumi, who set it on the table.

“Alright, we’re gonna have a showdown someday. But let’s put it off until after the war, yeah?” He sat down on the bed next to Shion. “What’s the next move?”

“Hmm?” Shion was still putting his hungover brain back together. “Oh. Ugh.” He closed his eyes, wishing he was still asleep. “I don’t want to go back to the Mountain Village… I don’t really want to be in No. 6 either, though.”

“Yeah, okay. I get it. But you just sent an army to my home. And I sent a cartel to yours. So, both of us are gonna have to own up to this.” Nezumi crossed his legs, thinking.

“How about we just run away?” Shion leaned his head on Nezumi’s shoulder with a sigh. “Let’s go run off into the forest and just hide away until all this blows over.”

“So, you’d come back when all the shit is over?” Nezumi raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah. I’ll come back. I promise,” Shion intoned, narrowing his eyes.

“Ouch. You got me,” Nezumi responded sarcastically. “But that does sound nice. Sounds like my MO. We could steal a boat and sail to No. 1. It would take about two months, probably. Then we could just hide out there and hope this doesn’t turn into World War Four.”

“I hear the people have dark brown skin and golden eyes.” Shion sighed, picturing it. “I bet they’re beautiful.”

“You’d look inhuman to them, probably. Hm, I might too. I’m pretty pale. Nothing like you, damn, but compared to most people… I’m kinda light brown.” Nezumi stared at the back of his arm, comparing the color to Shion’s. It was a dramatic difference. Shion’s skin was so pale it glowed. He had to be careful in the sun. Nezumi looked kinda like milk tea. It was how Shion had looked before the wasp drained his melanin.

“I look like the people of No. 5, now.” Shion remembered the photos he’d seen in the brochure Safu had sent him. “They were all pale.”

“Would you rather go to No. 5? To fit in?” Nezumi smirked.

“No, I wanna go to No. 1. I want to meet people different from me. But…” Shion sighed, shoulders drooping. “We have to stay in No. 6, don’t we?”

“Yeah. We do.” Nezumi sounded sad.

“What should I do?” Shion asked desperately.

“Don’t ask me. I’m the enemy,” Nezumi scolded.

“No, you’re not.” Shion sat up. “You’re just leading the away team in No. 6. Just like I’m leading the away team in the Mountain Village. We’re fighting the same war, for the same reason. Don’t let border lines confuse you.”

Nezumi was silent for a moment. “You know, that might be the most profound thing you’ve ever said.”

Shion was proud. “You agree?”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s not us versus them, or No. 6 versus Mao. It’s Mao and No. 6 versus the cartels. And both Mao and No. 6 are holding each other hostage, wanting the other to do something to fix it.” He tugged on his hair, thinking. “They’re just going to cause more problems. You know, my instinct is telling me to run. This ship is about to sink.”

“I’m not taking back the armies,” Shion insisted. “If we can take out the cartels that way, then it’s best.”

“Well, I’m not taking back my people either. I don’t want bombs in my city, and your city is full of drug traffickers as well. These things are double sided.” Nezumi pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing. “Maybe we need to flatten both in order to rebuild something good.”

Shion wanted to laugh with frustration. The irony and humor of it all was like a thorn in his side. “I _just_ rebuilt No. 6. That _cannot_ be the answer. Besides, what about preservation of culture? And all the innocent people that will be harmed by total destruction? And all the…” Shion trailed off, a sudden horrible thought hitting him. “Oh… I have an idea.”

“Mm?” Nezumi looked at him doubtfully, and slid down on the couch so his feet stuck way out on the floor.

“Okay, this isn’t maybe the most… I dunno, _ideal_ solution, but… So, I know all these drugs are killing people, but…” He didn’t want to say it. It was probably stupid. It was probably _really really_ stupid.

“Spit it out. I already have a headache,” Nezumi grumbled.

“What if we just… let the cartels take the government?” He paused, waiting to be laughed at. When no response came, he kept talking. “Like… Give them full legal power to sell what they want, but like… you know. Also here…” He was at a loss for words. He wasn’t quite sure how to explain the concept in his brain.

“I don’t know,” Nezumi responded bluntly. “Use your words. Real words. And less of them.”

Shion took a deep breath, thinking hard. “What if we made drug trade part of the legal economy? Like, if it wasn’t illegal in No. 6, and the cartels took over the government in the Village, then… I dunno, maybe they’d lose their money? Because we could produce in No. 6, so it would be cheaper and safer. But the cartel would still have the power from being the ruling class, so they’d have to restore the economy and government on their own or else fall into poverty. So here in No. 6 we’d have a stable drug trade regulated by… doctors or something. And… scientists and stuff.” He gestured meaninglessly, hoping his point got across.

“Scientists and stuff,” Nezumi repeated blandly. “What do you think that will do to your people?”

“Um… I don’t really… I mean, I just had this idea right now, and it’s probably dumb, but--” Shion stumbled.

“No, keep going. I’m not angry yet,” Nezumi encouraged.

“Hm…” Shion supposed that was the best he could hope for in terms of response. “Well… It’s probably not _good,_ you know? But maybe it’s the lesser of two evils. Like, we could have the cartels destroying your city and creating rebellion in mine, or we could just… give them what they want, but take away their monopoly.”

Nezumi nodded, remaining quiet for a long moment as he thought. “So, your armies would go after the legitimate government of the Mountain Village, and let the four cartels battle for power over civilian streets?”

“Oh…” Shion sighed. “Yeah.”

“That’s a good idea,” Nezumi said, surprisingly. “But you need to utilize your own mafia. You have the border. Go in and destroy the teams that struggle, until the most powerful is left to take the crown. Then, blow up the wall with the bombs you have stored.”

A tingle of excitement stirred in Shion’s stomach. It felt something like hope. “So we go back to the Mountain Village.” His eyes widened, and he sat forward in anticipation.

Nezumi nodded. “As soon as possible.”

“Like… Now?” He wasn’t sure he really trusted what he was thinking of doing. It felt like it needed bureaucracy and approval from this and that people… Shouldn’t it take years? No. This wasn’t a legal course of action. This was an executive decision as both commander in chief of foreign policies and head of the most powerful mafia in No. 6 and its surrounding regions. This was war crime. Major treason. It could mean the destruction of thousands of lives, and he was taking it all on his own shoulders.

Nezumi nodded. “Yeah. I guess we should head out.”

Shion held out his hand for Nezumi to take. They stood together, facing the idea of what they were about to do. But at least, for the first time in a long time, they were on the same side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I know this took forever to update. Balancing school, work, and writing has been difficult. To make up for it, enjoy this bonus in which everything is okay again.
> 
> It was late. It was hard to tell exactly what time it was in their underground home, but Nezumi could tell it was late. Shion was asleep already, crashed hard after a long day of work. That was for the best. It was awful to be awake in the cold and hunger that was real life. Better to dream. Shion smelled like dogs and sunshine and river water. Even after showering and changing clothes, the scent had become a part of who he was. Nezumi smiled, laying down in the bed next to him. There was something oddly comforting about sharing a home. It was more than having a roommate, it was like having family. As much as he tried to keep his distance, Nezumi was happy with Shion in his life.
> 
> The mice were asleep, too. They were curled up on the rug in front of the glowing remains of the fire. Nezumi sat up, brushing his hair out of his face and rubbing his eyes. He sniffed away his sleepiness, and gazed out over the dimly lit room. Just a month ago, it had felt complete without Shion there. Now, Nezumi couldn’t imagine a more empty room than one in which Shion wasn’t. He reached out to touch Shion’s hair gently. Whatever it was he felt for the boy (and he had yet to put a name to it) it was good. There were times in which he wanted desperately to hate Shion, to fear Shion, or to dismiss Shion. But he couldn’t. He could only feel this incredible… _good._ He could only feel happy in Shion's presence.
> 
> He whispered quietly to Shion’s sleeping form. “I hate you.” He couldn’t even say it convincingly to himself. He caught himself in a sigh, and bit his lip. “This is frustrating. You’re frustrating.” He played with Shion’s hair absentmindedly. He’d grown quite attached to the silky white locks. He frowned. “I think you made me…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. He closed his eyes, and tried again to say it to the darkness behind his lids. “I think you made me love you.”
> 
> The words hung in the room like heavy smoke, lingering before slowly dispersing. Nezumi laid back down in bed, curling up a little closer to Shion. To keep warm. He pressed a quick kiss to the back of Shion’s neck before closing his eyes and deciding to fall asleep.
> 
> When he woke up in the morning, they were curled around each other. Nezumi’s arm was over Shion’s waist, and Shion’s legs were tucked between Nezumi’s, and his forehead rested on Nezumi’s chest.
> 
> Nezumi didn’t want to move. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, letting Shion wake up before him. It was easier that way. No awkward questions. No explanations. They could go along with their day as if everything between them was simple and normal. Shion smiled a little brighter when Nezumi finally pretended to wake, and everything was good and easy and okay.


	20. Everybody dies

With the law on their side, they sanctioned a helicopter to the Mountain Village. It was a three hour flight. Nezumi and Shion sat in the roaring noise of the engines and stared at the horizon in silence. Shion practiced repressing his guilt the whole way there. He practiced the stony expression he’d seen Nezumi wear and tried his best to fit it to his own emotions. He squared his shoulders. He straightened his back. He clenched his jaw tightly.

When the helicopter landed, Shion was an action hero. He walked away from the whirring blades, heading straight for the base at Nezumi’s house. He sent people out to collect the warriors of Babel, and within an hour the outside of Nezumi’s house was surrounded by people. Cheering people. Screaming people. Injured people. Fiery people.

“The armies of No. 6 are our allies,” Shion proclaimed to the gathered throng. “With their help, we will take down the wall, and we will take down three of the border gangs.” He paused, scanning everyone’s confused expressions. “The last gang to survive is the victor. They will take the government, and we will let them. What’s more, we will help them. And once the surviving gang is in place, we will dissolve.” He continued explaining his and Nezumi’s plan in detail, watching as the confused faces of the crowd turned to shock, then to excitement.

Through the west gate, tanks were rolling in. Armies were establishing the Embassy of No. 6 in the center of town and making their presence known.

The next few days were turmoil. Suddenly, the mob activity once hidden in the shadows was out in the street. People, even civilians, were as armed as an invading army, patrolling their homes and watching their backs. Every few minutes, several rounds of gunfire would ring out, and Shion would close his eyes and pray.

Bullet holes peppered the walls of their home, and blast damage destroyed the homes of others. More than once, Shion and Nezumi found themselves huddled under the table, hands behind their heads. Despite the confusion and violence, Shion found himself at home. It felt right to be here in this war. It felt right to be hiding and fighting with Nezumi. It felt normal. It was like their relationship was only whole in chaos. Nezumi’s need to protect Shion, coupled with Shion’s need for confusion merged together perfectly, and suddenly they were themselves again.

Within three weeks, the armies of No. 6 had exposed the legitimate government of the Mountain Village, and they were on their way to destruction.

Within four weeks, Shion stood above the crowds watching destruction occur wherever he pointed.

Within five weeks, the first border gang, Umiya, had fallen. Their leader was dead at Shion’s feet, a bullet wound through his neck. Someone took a picture, and it was quickly circulating around the whole village. The devil takes the usurpers. There was a huge reward on Shion’s head, every remaining border gang battling for his seizure. After Umiya fell, Shion rarely left the house.

Neither did Nezumi. The two were heavily guarded by mobsters with guns 24/7. Within two months, Shion was going stir crazy.

“I need to go outside. I’m gonna die of vitamin D deprivation,” Shion told Nezumi seriously one day as they sat on the couch half-heartedly rewatching an old Mao film they’d seen a million times.

Nezumi scoffed, “You could never die of that. You have no melanin. If you stand too close to a window, you’ll get skin cancer.”

Shion frowned. “I’m serious. I’m so bored.” He leaned his head on Nezumi’s shoulder. “What do we do?”

Nezumi shot him an annoyed look. “You started a war and then immediately turned around and committed a major war crime. You don’t get to be bored.”

Shion’s heart missed a couple of beats the way it did every time he thought about what he had done. “...Hey…” He hesitated, nervous.

Nezumi rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Do you think I’m gonna die?” Shion asked, sitting up. “When all this is over, I mean. Someone’s going to try to kill me.”

Nezumi paused, thinking about it. “Hm. Yeah, probably.” He nodded unhelpfully.

Anxiety buzzed in Shion’s chest. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Nezumi confirmed bluntly. “People from both sides will want to kill you. Not sure how you’re gonna escape that one.”

Shion wrung his hands. “Oh.”

They didn’t say another word to each other. Shion didn’t want the truth, and Nezumi wasn’t going to lie. They finished the film in silence, and sat there still even after the screen had gone black. Only then did Shion speak.

“Should I be sad?”

“Huh?” Nezumi looked at him, confused.

“You know,” Shion continued. “Should I be sad that I’m going to die soon?”

Nezumi squinted at him. “You’re asking me how you should feel?”

Shion shrugged. “Well, it’s just… I don’t know. I don’t feel sad. I think it’s fine if I die. I did what I could and what I thought was right. So if I die for that, maybe it’s okay?”

Nezumi stared at him blankly.

“Like…” Shion continued, intimidated by Nezumi’s expression. “If I die for peace, I think that’s good. That’s the best way anyone can die.”

Nezumi stared at him for another long moment, then said the words that would haunt Shion’s nightmares forever. “You’re not dying for peace. You’ve created war, and you’ve become a warlord. When you’re killed, millions of people will celebrate.”

Shion felt cold. He felt nauseous. He wanted to wake up, but it wasn’t a dream. “Are… Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Nezumi replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like he was telling Shion about the weather rather than calling him a monster. “You’re responsible for the deaths of thousands. You’re responsible for the destruction of an indigenous city. You’re the head of the most powerful mafia and you control the invading armies. Every dictator thinks they did the right thing, Shion, but all anyone will ever see is the hurt you caused.”

Shion collapsed into the couch, wanting to disappear. “I’m not a dictator. I did this to help people.”

Nezumi shrugged, leaning back too. “Well, maybe someday people will see that. Unfortunately for you, now and in the near future, this will look like a race war. This will look like genocide. This is going to look like unconscionable evil.”

Tears filled Shion’s chest, and pain shot through his stomach like a knife. He bent over on himself and shook. “This is going to help people,” he repeated desperately. “I’m fighting for peace.”

“What an oxymoron. What a paradox,” Nezumi said boredly. “Look, it doesn’t matter, Shion. We’re past the point of no return. Long past it. So at this point, there’s nothing you can do but own it. Do what you need to do to help the world, but don’t expect anyone to thank you. Because they won’t.”

Two weeks later the second border gang, Kinjin, fell. They went up in an explosion of debris and pink mist. Shion watched absently through the window as their tower fell. He listened apathetically as people screamed Babel. Two hours later he passed out in a drunken stupor on the couch, tears streaming down his face.

Four weeks later, and the third border gang, Sen, fell. Now, only Hachi was left. War tore through the streets, and civilians were dying every day. Shion heard news of an albino baby who had been slaughtered the moment she was born in a public display of resistance against Babel. That’s when Shion fell.

He fell like the towers he had destroyed. He fell like the wall of No. 6 some fourteen years ago. He fell like every innocent and less than innocent person had in the past few months. Nezumi was the one who found him collapsed on the couch, breath shaky from exertion.

Nezumi just stared at Shion’s struggling body, not caring. “So easy to overdose, isn’t it, Shion?” he asked, sitting down in a chair next to the couch. “It seems good and right at first, but then you take it too far and it becomes destructive and deadly. I figured you would have given into temptation before now, but well done.” Nezumi smiled sadly at Shion’s uncomprehending form. “But it’s worth the escape, isn’t it? Just for a moment. Even if it kills you.” A silent tear rolled down Nezumi’s cheek, where he ignored it. “You’ll be fine. Just wait it out.” He stood up, still staring at Shion. “And if you’re not… I guess you got what you wanted.”

Two more weeks, and Hachi took the government. There was a momentary ceasefire. For the first time in a long time, Shion stepped outside his door. A crowd of people was looking up at him, wondering what to do. Shion nodded, and slowly descended the steps. Immediately, he was surrounded by members of Babel, keeping him safe as he walked through the streets towards city hall.

Standing in front of the building, he was confronted by members of Hachi, who stood menacingly atop the steps.

“Shion,” one member addressed him. “Good to finally see you in person.”

Shion didn’t know who this man was, so he just nodded. “Likewise.”

“It seems we’re the only two left,” the man continued, pacing around the great proscenium porch of city hall. “Are you ready to die?”

Shion took a deep breath, and stepped forward. “From the moment I started this war, I was prepared to die. There were many things of which I was uncertain, but that wasn’t one. I was ready to die for my cause. I am still ready to die for my cause. However, I don’t want to see any more bloodshed. I started this war to restore peace between the Mountain Village and No. 6. Since that moment, I’ve seen nothing but destruction. If I see one more death, let it be my own. Please.” He bowed his head, and the crowd was deathly silent around him. “I’m giving you this government. I’m dissolving Babel. All my warriors belong to you. Let the Hachi Village reign, and let them be better than their predecessors. Let them be better than the ones that tore their city down.” He looked back up, a strange peace settling in his heart. “Please, be better than me.”

The man nodded. “Step forward.”

The crowds parted.

A silver glint was the barrel of a gun.

A victorious smirk flashed white teeth, and lips mouthed the word now.

Someone screamed.

A few more people screamed.

The world collided with Shion’s body in one moment, and he was on the floor, breath gone from his body.

His lungs refused to move.

There was a ringing in his ears, and all he could see was red.

There was a pressure on his body, like he was being crushed.

Suddenly, the world shifted sickeningly. Shion found himself entangled with a familiar form who was crying and holding him tight. Tearful gray eyes looked into confused red ones.

“Shion,” he called. What a beautiful voice. “It hurts.”

 _It hurts?_ Shion wondered. _You’re hurting?_ He blinked, and paled at the horrible realization of what was going on. _Oh no,_ Shion thought. _This can’t be. I was shot. You weren’t. You can’t die for me. You can’t._

He said it couldn’t be true, but still Kawari shook in Shion’s arms, turning pale and clammy. The sun disappeared as a circle of people surrounded them. Looking up, Shion recognized Kara and Stroll. He recognized Kawari’s mother, who was standing firmly in front of her son, protecting him and Shion from further attack. Shion recognized members of Babel, and members of Hachi. There were even people from Umiya and Sen and Kinjin standing shoulder to shoulder. But suddenly, they weren’t Umiya or Kinjin or Hachi or Sen or even Babel. They were the Mao people united to protect their child from further suffering.

That’s when Shion noticed another stunning thing. None of them were looking back at the damage. None of them were trying to help. Not even Kawari’s own mother. Emotions rolled through Shion in waves, first confusion, then horror, then awe, then inspiration.

There was nothing that could be done for Kawari. They had already accepted him as dead. They accepted it, and moved forward to do what they could: protect what Kawari had died for.

Someone tapped Shion on the shoulder. “He’s gone,” Nezumi whispered, detangling Shion from Kawari’s limp arms.

 _Oh. When did it happen?_ Shion hadn’t noticed. A moment ago, his gasping breaths had filled Shion’s ears. They still did. He heard Kawari’s breath clear as day, echoing in his mind. Which breath had been the last one? Shion would never know.

The crowd surrounded Shion, moving like a corral and forcing him to walk away.

“What about Kawari?” Shion asked Nezumi desperately. “Are we just gonna leave him there?”

Nezumi nodded solemnly. “That’s not Kawari anymore. In this culture, the body is not who you are. Once you leave, your body is nothing but a sack of meat to be burned in order to keep the wolves away.”

Song rose into the air, like it was directed at heaven itself. Like their words were lifting Kawari’s soul and ascending it to the sky.

_Kawari. Kawari._  
Tamashi wo sarai kedo  
Kawari. Kawari.  
Kanashi ni naritakunai da yo  
Aishiteita  
Aishiteiru  
Kawari wa shinda  
Minna ga shinu. 

Shion just listened numbly as the crowd drove him further away from Hachi’s new territory. He shuffled blindly, guided by Nezumi until they reached the edge of the forest. There was a moment of silence, then suddenly Shion found himself being kissed by each member of the crowd in turn as they said goodbye. Shion was a little overwhelmed. Something like this would never happen in No. 6. In No. 6, people didn’t even hold hands in public, let alone kiss. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

A moment later, they were alone. Shion and Nezumi stood at the edge of the forest in silence, realizing what was about to happen. They were being cast out. They were being sent away to the forest on their own with nothing.

Shion gaped at the retreating forms of the Mao people as they walked away. He felt empty. He wanted to feel resentful, but he knew that he deserved so much more than exile. He deserved more than the bullet Kawari had taken for him. This was a blessing. This was the Mao people’s way of saving his life. He didn’t deserve it. He wanted their hatred, he wanted their violence, he wanted their revenge.

Suddenly, Shion felt a deep pain for Kawari, who had endured so much. He felt a terrible sympathy for Kawari’s reaction to the pressure, and he understood. The world rung in Shion’s ears, and more than hearing himself say it, he felt the words tumble out of his mouth. “I need to cut my hair.”

Nezumi took his hand and nodded solemnly. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end. So to lessen your nerves, here's this bonus story:
> 
> The sun beat down heavily, so hot that Nezumi could feel his skin burn. He smiled, tying his hair into a messy bun as he sat on a rock by the ocean. His hair was beginning to turn gray, and it glinted in the sun. It was nothing compared to Shion’s curtain of bright white locks that seemed to glow even as he hid in the shade away from the sunny day.
> 
> Shion called to him from under a tree, “Come see what Rosa did!” he was waving wildly and a little girl was beaming proudly at his side.
> 
> Nezumi stood up, squinting at them. Shion was wearing a flower crown of bright red hibiscus flowers that made his eyes look like fire. Nezumi smiled, and walked over to them. “Rosa, you made this?”
> 
> “Yeah!” The little girl clapped. “It’s beautiful!”
> 
> Nezumi nodded. “It is beautiful.” He reached down to pick up the little girl. “Just like you.”
> 
> She laughed, and tangled her fists in Nezumi’s hair. “Because dad has red eyes like flowers.” She placed her hands on either of Nezumi’s cheeks. “Pretty.”
> 
> Nezumi smiled. “He is pretty, isn’t he?” He glanced over at Shion, who was staring at the two of them like he was seeing the sun for the first time. “He’s beautiful.”
> 
> Shion beamed and strode over to embrace the two of them. It was times like this that Nezumi wished could last forever. Just this one moment, if extended into eternity, would be the definition of heaven. Pure joy with Shion and Rosa, their daughter, who had taught him to be happy again. It was the first time in his life that Nezumi had felt truly complete. That he truly understood the meaning of family. That he eagerly accepted the love that was in his heart.


	21. Hachi

The birds called through the still air above Nezumi and Shion as they sat in a clearing in the forest, facing each other seriously. Nezumi nodded, and Shion bowed his head to cast his hair over the ground. Carefully, Nezumi cut it short with a knife. Strands of white fell dead to the earth and curled like ashes against the mat of leaves. Nezumi trimmed the sides carefully, looking sadly at Shion’s new appearance.

Shion nodded in return, and Nezumi handed him the knife. Nezumi scooted back a ways and laid his hair along the ground. Thick black locks ran like a river across the soil, extending about two and a half feet. Tentatively, Shion held the blade to the long strands and made the first cut. It felt like vandalism. Slowly, he worked through the rest of Nezumi’s long hair, cleaning it up when Nezumi sat upright. He looked foreign with his hair at his ears.

They regarded each other silently. Shion felt light, with the weight of his hair gone. Like a terrible pressure had been lifted. He smiled. He understood the ritual.

“You’re crying,” Nezumi commented. “Don’t cry.”

Shion hadn’t noticed until a tear slipped down his cheek. He laughed around a sob. “So are you,” he pointed out.

Nezumi blinked rapidly and nodded. “Should we go?” He gazed around the expansive forest in every direction.

“Where?” Shion asked, looking around too. There was nowhere to go. “Back to No. 6?”

Nezumi shook his head. “We’d be killed. We can’t go back.”

Shion nodded. He already knew that. He stood up, looking south. “Let’s go to No. 1,” he said. “Let’s fell a tree and build a canoe and sail to No. 1.”

Nezumi stood up too, dusting the leaves and dirt off his pants. “Let’s sail everywhere. Let’s go all around the world, Shion.” He smiled weakly, taking Shion’s hand. “Let’s you and me run away together this time, we’ll visit all five cities we’ve never been to. Let’s come home years later to visit No. 7. Let’s find our own island and build No. 8. Let’s run away.”

Shion nodded, wrapping his arms around Nezumi’s waist. “Let’s get married. Let’s have a baby. Let’s make a life of our own.”

Nezumi hugged him back, laying his forehead on Shion’s shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s start over, Shion. Let’s start over.”

They held each other, desperately clinging to the lie that they could still be okay. Shion knew it was only a matter of time before they were hunted down. Nezumi knew that a normal domestic life could never be for them. Still, they embraced each other and felt complete under their fantasies. In all likelihood, they would die out here in the forest. Most likely, they would never make it to the ocean, let alone No. 1. They knew that the worst was yet to come and that nothing would really be okay again.

Still, the cities were at peace. Just for a moment, the cities were at peace, and they were living. Whether the Mountain Village would become No. 7, and whether No. 6 would decide to follow through on the plan to let the cartels work as corporations, they had no idea. Still, this moment was clean. This moment was peace without bloodshed. It was love without violence. It was lack of society and culture and void of expectation.

It was finality.

\------

The sky over No. 6 was clear and blue. The Moondrop towered in the center of town, but everything else had changed. The scars of economic division between what had once been No. 6, and what had once been the outlying districts were now gone. The houses closer to the border were of high quality; towering, expensive mansions claimed huge amounts of land. Closer to the center of town were apartment buildings squeezed into every nook and cranny, looking distinctly less well-maintained. What had once been Chronos was now a cluster of shops with lofts on top, holding families of disproportionately Mao origin. What had once been West Block was full of high-end shopping malls and specialty stores. The people there were disproportionately of native No. 6 origin. Gandelas shot through the sky at amazing speeds, carrying people every which way. Shion and Nezumi stared at the development in awe.

Nezumi held a baby wrapped in blankets and turned her face to the sky. “See that, Rosa? See what your daddies did?”

The baby stared at the city with her tiny mouth hanging open. She pointed at everything.

“Different from the forest, isn’t it?” Shion smiled. “Welcome to No. 6.”

Nezumi looked at Shion carefully. “Ready to meet grandma?”

Shion’s smile faded, and he nodded. He’d managed to send a message to his mother before he and Nezumi had run away. He explained their situation, and that it was unlikely they’d be able to return. He’d received no reply, and he had never been certain she’d gotten the message.

Now, six years later, they had managed to return. They wouldn’t be able to stay for long, and even being in the city wasn’t exactly safe, but Shion needed to see what his city had become. He needed to show his daughter (even if she wouldn’t remember it) what No. 6 was. He wanted her to know why it was so important and why they did what they did. Shion never wanted his life in No. 6 to be a secret. He never wanted the Mao war to be forgotten. He wanted Rosa to know, he wanted her to understand.

They had an address. East of town, near the gardens. They’d managed to find the information on where Karan was, but nothing else.

The house was small. It was a brick structure with no yard, just a few flower baskets that hung over the windows. They were bursting with purple asters. Shion smiled and rung the doorbell.

Her hair had turned nearly as light as her son’s, but otherwise she looked the same. It seemed to take Karan a moment to register what she was seeing before her eyes lit up with wonder and filled with joyful tears. “Shion,” she said simply, before embracing him.

“I came back,” Shion said, trying not to cry.

“You did.” Karan blinked her tearful eyes open and looked over Shion’s shoulder to see Nezumi and the baby. “Oh my…”

Shion stepped out of her embrace, and looked back over at the two. “Yeah. Mom, this is Rosa. Your granddaughter.”

Karan glared at Shion and thumped him on the chest. “You had a baby and you waited until now to visit me?” She shook her head. “Come inside, all three of you.” They stepped forward, and Karan intercepted Nezumi at the door, hugging him tightly. “Welcome home, Nezumi.”

Nezumi gulped and nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

Karan plucked Rosa from his hands and went inside. “What’s your name?”

“Rosa,” Shion told her, smiling at the pair. “We found her in No. 1.”

Karan squinted at him. “You _found_ her? Did she have parents before? You told someone you were taking her, right? This isn’t like Little Shion, is it? You didn’t just _take_ a baby and assume she had no other family?”

Nezumi laughed. “Shion should be more careful with his words. We adopted her from an orphanage. We signed the proper documents.”

Karan smiled. “Well, that’s good then, isn’t it?” She cooed at Rosa. “Hi, Rosa. I’m your grandmother.” She squinted up at Shion again. “How have you been feeding her?”

Shion sighed. “Mom, don’t worry so much. She’s fine. We feed her.”

Karan nodded slowly, not looking like she quite trusted him. “Are you talking to her enough? You have to make sure she gets plenty of language exposure.”

Shion sat down on a couch and nodded wearily. “Yeah. All the time. But she might speak later since she only heard the language of No. 1 until we took her, and we’re raising her bilingually, so it could take a while.”

Karan nodded again. “Okay. Well, Shion, I’m so glad to have you home. I’ve missed you both.” She looked between her son and Nezumi. “I’m glad you stayed together.” She sat down in a chair with Rosa, and Nezumi took a seat next to Shion. “I was worried about what might happen to Shion alone,” she addressed Nezumi. “He misses you so much when you’re gone. You know, he used to say your name under his breath all the time. And in his sleep. I always wondered what had become of you.”

“Mom!” Shion protested, horrified. “Stop…” He sighed. “I’m glad I got to see you again. I really am.” His bottom lip quivered.

Karan nodded. “You have to leave soon, don’t you? I understand.” She smiled weakly. “Just know I never doubted either of you for a moment.” She tilted her head in short acknowledgement of Nezumi. “I love and trust you both, and I know you did what you could.” She beamed down at Rosa. “And you managed to put together the life you always wanted,” she continued. “Even after all this.”

Shion stared down at his lap, the love he felt for his daughter with her grandmother was too much to bear looking at them. “We’re leaving the country again. I’m not sure when or if we’ll be able to come back.” He blinked back tears as he looked at his mother. He wanted desperately to ask her to come with them, but he couldn’t. It was difficult enough on their little boat with baby Rosa. Karan was old. She may not last the harsh trip.

“Where are you going?” Karan asked, somehow managing to keep the tears out of her voice.

Nezumi answered before Shion could say anything. “We can’t tell you. For your own safety. The less you know, the better.”

Shion nodded sadly. “We just wanted you to meet Rosa, and I wanted to see you again. I don’t want to leave, Mom.” Shion’s voice broke on the last sentence. “I don’t want to go.”

Karan closed her eyes and remained silent for a long moment. Just as Shion was about to ask what was wrong, she spoke. “You’ve always been prone to nostalgia. You’ve always had so much love in your heart. But now your life isn’t about you. It’s about your daughter.” She smiled at Rosa. “I remember when you were a baby, your father wanted to leave the city. He begged me to follow him out into the forest. He wanted to escape while there was still time.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I loved your father very much. I didn’t want to be without him. Still, I thought it was best we stay in the city, where I could care for you. It was safest for my baby. Now you have to do what’s best for your child, and I have to do what’s best for you.” She stood carefully, planting a kiss on Rosa’s chubby cheek before handing her over to Shion. “Leave. Take care of your family.”

Shion stood and embraced her, a terrible pain filling his chest as he realized it was the last time. “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.”

“Forever and always, my little wildflower.” Karan ran her hands through Shion’s hair and held him for a hundred heartbeats. Then she turned to Nezumi. “Goodbye, love.” She embraced him firmly for as long as Nezumi could bear before letting him go. She waved one last time at Rosa and blew a kiss to her sons before they walked out the door.

The small, stitched together family walked back into the forest. Neither felt the need to look back as the city became obscured by foliage behind them. It was enough. No. 6 was done. After thirty-six years, their final tie to the city had been severed. It felt clean. Like cutting your hair. Like music. Like dancing. Like finally falling in love.

It was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of Culture Shock. Thank you all for reading, and big thanks to comehomenezumi for being my amazing beta all through this process. Thank you so much, I can't thank you enough. <3
> 
>  
> 
> BONUS: It’s a pun.
> 
> No. 8 stood proud the day it was officially recognized as one of Earth’s cities. The limestone government building looked like a castle that day, strung with flowers and smeared with colorful powders. Nearly every citizen of No. 8 was there, listening to their president speak.
> 
> “This is the land of forgiveness. This is the land of salvation. We are a culture of amnesty. That is why we must be proud of our achievements today. For decades, we have worked to make this city what it is today. From our humble beginnings as a family of three, to our wonderful family of nearly 2,000.” The crowd cheered. “We are the city of refugees. We are the city of every person, young or old, man or woman, tan or brown. We are not Mao, or Africa, or China, or Europe. We are not India, or America, or Iceland, or Australia. But we will not forget the countries that fell before us, because they make us who we are. We will not forget what No. 6 was before the fall, and we will not forget what it became after the war.” The crowd nodded in silent appreciation as their president took a breath. “My fathers brought about the fall. My fathers brought about the civil war. They also brought about this city. They took me from an orphanage in a poverty-stricken city in No. 1 and brought me up in every city we could touch. They raised me with their own cultures of Mao and No. 6, and they made me know the meaning of family.” Rosa looked down at the podium. She had no notes; she knew these words by heart because they came from her heart. “I wish they had lived to see this day. The day their home became their daughter’s city. The day their home was embraced by the rest of the world and invited into the club. The day The Village of Change became city No. 8.”
> 
> The crowd cheered and tossed flower petals into the air. Representatives from every other city were there, standing behind her. When she signed the document, music burst into the air, and people screamed wildly with joy.
> 
> Rosa stepped off the stage to her husband’s waiting arms. Two of her three children tugged at the hem of her shirt excitedly, their wide eyes blinking up at her. The oldest was 13, and she smiled happily on the side, too old for such nonsense.
> 
> Her husband’s parent stepped forward, surrounded by a pack of well-trained dogs. “Congratulations,” they said, reaching out to shake Rosa’s hand. “Even that damn rat would have been proud.”
> 
> Rosa nodded tearily, basking in the glow of her success. It had happened. It had finally happened.
> 
> _Hachi ni narimashita._


End file.
